


Me and You

by koto



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Coffee Shops, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Neighbors, Not Beta Read, Recreational Drug Use, assistant manager han jisung, grad student minho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 37,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koto/pseuds/koto
Summary: Jisung isn’t dumb. When he signed the lease on his apartment, he knew the building was old and shitty, but he was prepared to deal with that. But the paper-thin walls and the neighbor who listens to EDM until 3 am without fail? He's entirely at a loss. When a roommate moves in on his other side, he's thrown off in a whole different way; he and Minho become fast friends, and then fast friends turns into... something more?My first friends with benefits but are we really just friends attempt.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 104
Kudos: 743
Collections: MINSUNG BINGO: Round One, Minsung





	1. Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Adding this to Minsung Bingo! This fulfills the tropes:  
> Banter as flirting, Oblivious Idiots  
> Update: Say thank you to Aki for drawing this adorable tribute to the fic! Show it some love on twt! https://twitter.com/jsngfeet/status/1289176206869315585?s=21  
> Holy moly this got long. I wanted this to be a oneshot, but it's honestly way too long, and I was excited to get their story out there. I hope the first chapter isn't too dry, because this wasn't originally written as a chaptered fic, but chapter 2 is about halfway done and I think chapter 1 is a solid break point. Either way, it won't be more than a few days until it's done, so I hope you'll hang in there!
> 
> disclaimer: I've never worked at a coffee shop. But I have been promoted over coworkers/friends, so while the technical aspects of cafes may be slightly off, I can at least vouch for the emotional strain. 
> 
> This is going to get more spicy in chapter 2, and it's highly possible that the rating will change at that point, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Also, this is not beta read, and while I proofread it twice, I'm also on my third glass of wine, so if anything's off hmu as always!
> 
> Find me on twitter at /0hrhj0 and cc at /Koto16

Jisung isn’t dumb. When he signed the lease on his apartment, he knew the building was old and shitty, but he was prepared to deal with that. No counter space in the kitchen? _Whatever, I don’t really cook._ Leaky shower? _Water is included in the rent, who cares._ Ugly carpeting? _Doesn’t matter, I’ll throw a rug over it._ It’s a college apartment, nobody is expecting magnificence. But the rice-paper thin walls? He never could have anticipated how thin these walls are, how disruptive his neighbor is, or the fact that their bedrooms sound like they’re separated by a piece of tissue. Now one week into his lease Jisung is laying in bed with a pillow over his head, sleep deprived, regretting every decision he made leading up to signing his name on that contract. _Curse being a broke college student. Curse my morning shifts at the cafe. Curse this damn neighbor for staying up at all hours of the night listening to EDM._ The music finally winds down at four in the morning, and Jisung is so damn tired he thanks the universe for his upcoming hour and a half of sleep even though he knows it won’t be nearly enough. 

The only thing that can drag Jisung out of bed at the asscrack of dawn is an ice cold shower to jolt his body to a state of alertness. He doesn’t bother with coffee or food, he can get those at work, he just needs to get himself clean and throw on his uniform before heading out the door in a practiced fifteen minutes. When he steps into the hallway he glares at the unit to his right as he leaves as if a bad look can somehow slip through the cracks in the door and silence his vampiric neighbor. The unit to his left is still vacant, but Jisung had seen some maintenance workers changing the locks yesterday, so someone is sure to be moving in soon. Jisung hopes the new neighbor is better. The new neighbor _has_ to be better.

If there are two redeeming factors to this building, it’s the pricing and the location. Jisung spent the entirety of his freshman and sophomore years working at a little cafe just off his school's main campus; he had no reason to suspect junior year would be different, so he’d kept his apartment search within a five block radius of work. He’s discovered in his mere seven days in this building that it takes approximately seven minutes to get to work so long as he power walks and doesn’t stop to smell the roses. Today he arrives at the shop to see half of his team waiting outside the door with three minutes to spare before six. He must have dragged his feet.

“Hey boss,” Felix greets, clapping Jisung on the shoulder as he digs through his backpack for the store keys. 

“Ew, please don’t call me boss, that still sounds so weird,” Jisung says with a grimace. 

“But you’re the big man in charge. You earned it. Don’t you want to show off?” Felix questions. Jisung had been promoted at the end of the school year, another reason he’d been in such a rush to find a place before the dorms kicked everyone out for the summer. He felt kind of awkward getting the position when he and Felix had started as baristas at the same time, but he’d worked his ass off to prove his worth and secretly treasured his set of store keys more than almost anything else; second only to his extensive book collection. 

“I’m an assistant manager, don’t let the owner or Johnny hear you calling me the big man in charge, they'll be offended,” Jisung says, finally locating the keys and unlocking the door and letting Felix step in before him. “And I do want to show off, but to the new employees, not you. You already know all about my talent and charm.” Felix laughs, heading behind the counter to start getting things set up for the day as Jisung put his bags down in the back room. 

“Have you heard from Hyunjin?” Felix calls out over the sound of coffee machines whirring to life.

“No, I was hoping you had,” Jisung says, looking at the clock on his phone. “He’s gonna be late.” Like clockwork, four minutes later a loud banging comes from the front door. There’s a man standing just outside, hunched over sweaty and heaving, leaning on the window. Jisung walks over to let him in.

“Hyunjin. You’re late.” Jisung says, holding the door open.

“It’s 6:04, we have a five minute grace period,” he responds, standing up and running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “You look like shit, Sungie.”

“Clean your damn handprints off the window!” Jisung yells after Hyunjin as he runs to the back, stopping to give Felix a quick one-armed hug. He comes out looking significantly more presentable, sweat wiped away and hair tied into a ponytail. Jisung follows as Hyunjin walks to the window, cleaning supplies in hand, and leans out the door to spot clean the mess he’d made. “Hyunjin, I’m serious,” Jisung says quietly, joining him outside.

“About what?” he asks, not looking at Jisung in favor of scrubbing away a few extra little spots.

“You need to be more careful about your time. I know we’re friends but if you’re late I’m gonna have to write you up. Please don’t make me do that,” Jisung says. This is the worst part about the promotion.

“I know, I get it,” Hyunjin says, finally turning to Jisung. “I’m serious too. You look like crap. Are you ok?”

“No. My demon neighbor again. Four in the morning this time. I’m going to collapse,” Jisung groans. Hyunjin laughs and wraps an arm around Jisung, leading him back inside.

“If I make you a coffee and heat up a croissant will you forgive me for being _almost_ late?” Hyunjin asks. Jisung nods blankly, shuffling into the office to get some administrative work done and grinning when Hyunjin brings his treats to him. _Thank god for people who know what they’re doing. Thank god for my friends. Thank god for coffee._

Jisung can’t even deny that he spends most of his shift coasting. It’s not super busy and he doesn’t have a ton of work to do, so he takes to pacing around the store, dusting and polishing anything he can find to keep himself from falling asleep in his comfy office chair. Jisung doesn’t know the p.m. manager that well, only that his name is Seungmin and he’d been hired on as management about a month ago, but he’s due in at one and Jisung has never been more excited to see someone in his entire life. From their brief conversations in passing, he’s a pretty nice guy that takes his job quite seriously. He’s not quite sure how to approach asking if he doesn’t mind Jisung leaving an hour early, but it turns out it doesn’t matter; Seungmin takes one look at Jisung and tells him to leave and get some sleep.

He shuffles back home after tying up his loose ends at work, enjoying the mid-day sun on his face and the early-summer breeze. Jisung walks slowly, partially to cherish the pleasant weather but mostly because he’s running on empty and he’s pretty sure his body is only fifty percent functional at the moment. When he’s a block away, he notices a moving truck in front of his building and groans. _He_ _just_ _wants to sleep._

The movers are transporting furniture and boxes up in the building’s freight elevator, but as Jisung gets closer he can see someone in civilian clothes carrying smaller bags through the front door. Jisung quickens his pace to sneak through the door before it closes, giving the man a polite smile. The first thing he notices about the man is his eyes; big, shiny, a little mischievous. He’s definitely handsome, but his move-in process is getting between Jisung and his sleep, so he’s not sure how to feel. Jisung steps into the elevator and keeps the door open, allowing him to take his time hauling the bags inside.

“What floor?” Jisung asks in a detached voice, pressing three for himself. Any other day and he’d try to make small talk, maybe even help with some bags, but he just doesn’t have it in him right now.

“Oh, three, thank you,” he responds, unable to see much over everything in his arms. _Well that’s interesting. Maybe it’s my neighbor?_ Jisung feels a little spark of energy come back to him at the thought. Now that they’re in close quarters, Jisung can properly look at the man. It’s not just his eyes, he’s good looking all around. Almost intimidatingly so; Jisung has never been good at interacting with beautiful strangers. The elevator dings before he can work up the nerve to say anything, and Jisung once again puts his arm out to make sure the doors stay open for his (maybe) neighbor. When he gets out, Jisung follows close behind. There’s a few workers moving in and out of unit 302, the unit just to his left. _Neighbors._

“Um, I’m actually ok,” the man says, turning slightly to Jisung as he speaks, quickening his pace down the hall by the slightest amount. Jisung furrows his brows in confusion, then realizes what he’s getting at. 

“Oh! Oh, no, I’m not following you. I live in unit 303. Sorry, I should have said that on the elevator. You look like you have all that covered,” Jisung says in a panicked voice, motioning at the bags. _He thinks I’m a stalker._ The man freezes up, and Jisung thinks he can see the tips of his ears turn a little red.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I really thought you were trying to follow me. What a shitty assumption,” he says as he wobbles through the front door of his unit, propped open for ease of access. “So we’re neighbors!” he shouts from inside, then continues saying something that Jisung can’t quite make out from the hallway. He’s clearly still talking, but he’s facing the back wall of the unit, and Jisung is conflicted. Is he supposed to just walk in? _Whatever._

“Sorry, what was that?” Jisung asks as he steps into the main room. The man turns around and faces him, smiling and shaking out his arms. 

“I said what’s your name?”

“Oh, Jisung. Han Jisung,” he replies, offering a small smile back.

“I’m Lee Minho,” the other man says, beginning to walk back towards the door. “I’d shake your hand but mine are really dirty. All part of move-in day,” he continues, stepping out of the way as two men start angling a big couch through the doorway. Jisung realizes he’s going to be stuck in here until they can fit it inside, so he takes the chance to look around. 

“I think your kitchen is better than mine,” Jisung says, staring at the little island Minho has and the laminate countertops that are slightly less putrid than his own. Not the most elegant opening sentence, but also not a lie.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure I’m paying extra for it. I cook a lot, so I sprung for a slightly bigger kitchen and smaller bedroom,” Minho responds.

“Ahh, a chef de cuisine,” Jisung says, nodding his head thoughtfully as he walks up to the bar and leans his elbows on it. “I may as well not even have a bedroom,” he sighs, thinking back to his shitty neighbor interrupting his sleep. Is he oversharing? Almost certainly, but Jisung is exhausted and his filter is long gone.

“What do you mean? You live in a studio?” Minho asks while starting to unpack some kitchen items from an open box, getting the hint that Jisung isn’t going anywhere. The sound of two pans being stacked on top of each other startles him back into reality.

“Oh, no, nothing, sorry! I’m being so rude right now, I just got off work. You’re busy, I should go,” Jisung says, standing up straight and slapping his cheeks. Minho laughs and shoves the box towards him.

“No, it’s ok. If you want to tell me you can help me unpack this box. I don’t have any more small stuff to grab from downstairs,” he says, pulling out a container full of silverware and beginning to sort it. _Do I want to stay?_ As soon as the thought floats through his head, Jisung hears a loud bang as the movers set some boxes down. There’s no way he’s going to be able to sleep. He may as well vent. 

“Sure,” Jisung says, grabbing some plates and bowls and stacking them into a cabinet. “What I meant was, I have a one bedroom but the wall is right up against my other neighbors room. They play EDM music until four in the morning every day, and I work at six. I’ve been running on fumes.”

“Have you talked to them?” Minho asks as he puts a couple things away from one of the tote bags he’d been carrying.

”I try knocking at night when it’s playing, he doesn’t answer because he can’t hear the door. I try knocking in the afternoon, he doesn’t answer. The bastard is probably sleeping right now. It’s like he only exists to torture me in the one time I need sleep,” Jisung sighs.

“Can you sleep on your couch?” Minho asks. Jisung sees him taking out everything he just placed down and moving it elsewhere, but neither of them say anything, so he leaves it alone and starts pulling things from the boxes without actually homing them. 

“I don’t have one yet. I’ve only been here like a week, it’s the next thing on my checklist. I was in the dorms so I didn’t have any furniture,” Jisung explains. He pulls out the salt and pepper shakers from the box. They’re little cats. _Cute._ He shuffles around the box a little more, but doesn’t see any pet bowls, so he figures they must be placeholders for real pets.

“That sucks, man. Have you talked to management about it? I hope I can’t hear it,” Minho says, worry crossing his face for a moment. 

“You won’t be able to, don’t worry. And I’ve tried talking to management but they said all I can do is file a noise complaint with the police, and I don’t want to go that far,” Jisung says, cracking his knuckles and getting back to work. “Alright, enough complaining. We just met, I didn’t mean to unload on you like that.”

“It’s ok. I feel better knowing that actually, with the bags under your eyes I probably would have suspected heavy drugs,” Minho says with a laugh. Jisung pouts, tapping the area under his eyes to see if it feels puffy, then looking at his reflection in a spoon. _Oh, shit._ No wonder Seungmin told him to go home.

“Oh my god I look like shit. I get why you thought I was chasing you now,” Jisung says, putting the spoon back where he found it. He pulls a few more items from the box, cheering when he empties it. They make a system of Jisung holding things up for Minho to look at, then placing them where he points. They have everything unpacked and stored in about forty minutes. 

“What now?” Jisung says, looking around at the apartment. All the major furniture seems to be inside, with boxes strewn across their respective rooms. Minho glances around and then back at Jisung.

“You know, you don’t have to help me unpack the whole apartment. I’m probably just going to move the big furniture right now and then get a pizza,” he says.

“Oh. Right,” Jisung says. He’d gotten so lost in their flow he forgot he barely knows Minho. He wants to, though. “Well… I like pizza. And two people are better than one for heavy furniture. I can help if you want?” he offers. Minho smiles.

“If you say so. Let me just go talk to the moving guys and let them know they’re good to leave,” he responds.

“Sure!” Jisung says. He looks down at his current outfit. He’s still in work clothes, and he’s going to have to wear them tomorrow. “Actually, you do that, I’m just going to go change. I'll be right back!” Jisung says, running out of the unit before Minho can respond. He opens up his door and heads to the closet, hanging his work clothes and changing into joggers and a big t-shirt, then making a stop in the bathroom to wash his face before walking back to Minho’s place.

The door isn’t wide open anymore, but when he yanks on the handle it comes undone easily, letting Jisung into the apartment without any fuss. He stands in the doorway for a second, watching as Minho tears open a large box and slides out an expensive looking TV. He’s not sure what he finds more impressive, the TV or the way Minho’s muscles tighten when he grabs at it. He shakes that thought out of his head.

“Damn,” Jisung says, startling Minho a bit. “That’s a nice TV for a broke college student.” He steps further into the apartment and closes the door behind him, helping Minho free the rest of the TV from the box and drag it towards his entertainment console.

“I’m not a broke college student,” Minho says. Jisung looks at him questioningly, and Minho reaches behind his head to scratch at it nervously. “Well, I am and I’m not. I’m a grad student, but it’s mostly lab stuff so I work a lot on the side.”

“Enough to buy me a giant TV too?” Jisung asks, sending Minho his most charming wink. He laughs but shakes his head.

“Ok, I do work a lot but the TV was a gift from my parents. Unfortunately, I’m not in sugar daddy territory yet. If you would like to come watch it _with_ me, though, you may,” Minho says. “But first you have to help me lift it so we can get it plugged in.”

Jisung helps him haul the TV up and get it plugged into the socket, setting up the accessories to make an entertainment station that’s far too fancy for the rest of the run-down apartment. Minho suggests they order their pizza, and while there’s some disagreement on the toppings (Pepperoni? Sausage? Why not both!) they decide on a good combo in an XL (so they can have cold pizza for breakfast, too) and move the couch while they wait. It’s a lot of heavy lifting, far more than Jisung thought he could possibly handle in his current state, but he’s having fun with Minho. It’s nice to have a friend nearby. A tiny voice nags in the back of his head: _He’s only known Minho a few hours, can he really call him a friend?_ He pushes it away.

Just when all the living room furniture has been set to their standards, the pizza arrives. Minho places it on the coffee table and they finally allow themselves to relax, lounging on the sofa. 

“Shit, I don’t have wifi set up yet and this is a smartTV,” Minho curses when he tries to click it on. 

“Just use mine. These walls can’t even block noise, there’s no way they can block my wifi signal. It’s J.One” Jisung says, shoving a piece of pizza into his mouth as Minho scrolls through the list of networks. 

“Password?” he asks. Jisung looks away from him, embarrassed to share the answer.

“Give me the remote, I’ll just enter it in,” he says.

“No, your hands are covered in pizza grease and this remote is brand new. It can’t be that bad,” Minho refutes, holding the device away from Jisung.

“It’s SquirrelSwag,” Jisung mumbles under his breath. “Both S’s are capital. Don’t say anything.” Minho is quiet for a few seconds, and Jisung thinks it might be a miracle that his humiliating password is going unnoticed, but when he turns around he sees Minho with a hand over his mouth, shaking and trying his damnedest not to crack up. _At least he’s making an effort._ He finally calms himself down, taking deep breaths and biting into a piece of pizza.

“I don’t know what you mean. That’s a perfectly respectable password,” Minho replies monotonously. They’re both laying on the sofa, heads at either end and legs curled up so they aren’t touching. Jisung uses this to his advantage, kicking Minho with socked feet to get revenge, which nearly makes him drop his pizza. “Hey, don’t kick the foot that feeds you,” Minho laughs.

“That’s a repulsive thing to say,” Jisung giggles, trying and failing to choke back his own laughter at the modification. The TV eventually connects, and they agree to put on a show in the background (Jisung suggests Avatar: the Last Airbender. Minho has no complaints). They eat as much as their stomachs can handle, and Jisung once again thanks the universe for a nice ending to his shitshow of a day.

He doesn’t mean for it to be literal, but at some point Jisung must have dozed off because now he’s laying on the couch, legs overlapped with Minho’s, TV set on mute. He vaguely remembers Minho turning down the volume so they can discuss what kind of bender they’d be (he wants to be fire, Minho wants to be earth), and there’s a half eaten slice of pizza face down on Jisung’s side of the box, so he assumes he threw it down while in the process of falling asleep. The cottony feeling coating his mouth tells Jisung that he’d more than just nodded off, and when he looks at his phone it’s already 3:30 in the morning. Minho is snoring softly on the other side of the sofa, and when Jisung squints he can see a little bit of pizza sauce on his cheek. It’s probably best to just let him sleep on the couch, because Jisung knows for a fact there’s no mattress on the bed right now. He gets up quietly, tiptoeing over to the door and grabbing his shoes, not bothering to put them on for the short walk down the hallway to his unit. 

When he walks in, he doesn’t bother brushing his teeth considering he’s going to be back up in two hours anyway. Instead, he heads straight into his bedroom, pressing an ear up to the back wall. Silence. Either his neighbor is out for the night or Jisung was just on time to miss the nightly rave he hosted on the other wide of the wall. Jisung peels off his shirt, climbs into bed, and sets his phone alarm for a bright and early 5:30 a.m. wakeup.

Getting up for work is significantly easier now that Jisung has gotten a decent night's sleep, at least mentally, but when he rolls out of bed every bone in his body creaks. The combination of heavy lifting and couch sleeping seems to have done a number on him. He waddles over to the bathroom and takes a quick shower, choking down a bowl of cereal before heading out. He internally curses himself for not stealing a couple pieces of leftover pizza (he had really been looking forward to the breakfast of champions), but walks to work in a good mood nonetheless, only heightened by the sight of both Felix _and_ Hyunjin waiting for him. 

His shift is busy, but overall easy. He has to hop out to the frontlines and help make drinks for the breakfast rush, something he’s actually discovered he misses since being promoted, and the day flies by after that. Even Hyunjin notes that he looks better and less zombie-like than usual. When the shift ends Felix suggests they all go out for a bite to eat, an offer that Jisung can’t refuse. Something in his gut tells him to be careful, not push the boundaries at work too much, so he waits a few minutes for Hyunjin and Felix to clock out first before leaving, killing time in the office. He’s surprised when Seungmin walks in and closes the door.

“Hey, Jisung,” Seungmin says with a smile. He’s another assistant manager, always polite and kind, but he’s been working at the cafe for such a short time that Jisung still isn’t all that familiar with him as a person. 

“What’s up, Seungmin?” he responds, trying hard not to look guilty.

“Stop being scared of me, we have the same job now,” Seungmin laughs. “I’m not your manager anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess not. I’m still getting used to the shift in dynamics,” Jisung responds, laughing a little nervously.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You know, you don’t have to hide that you’re going out with Felix and Hyunjin. As long as you maintain your roles at work it's fine. I’m not going to rat you out, and I don’t think Johnny would even care,” he says, eyes full of understanding. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep any lines,” Jisung says.

“You guys were all hired on around the same time, the whole staff already knows you’re friends. As long as you’re not giving away confidential information it’s fine. I got hired on as a leader, you earned your way up from the bottom. They’re still going to see you as their friend. You’ve got common sense, you know what to do,” Seungmin says, patting him on the shoulder. Jisung smiles and stands up from his chair, gathering his things to leave. Before he opens the door, Seungmin stops him. “Just see if you can get Hyunjin on track with his timing. Friends or not, if a staff member screws up it’s still on you to issue corrective action.” Jisung nods quickly, opening the door and scurrying out of the building as quickly as he can.

“Jisung, what’s going on?” Felix asks, snapping Jisung out of his thoughts. They’re sitting outside at a little sandwich shop and Jisung realizes he’s been stirring a french fry in his ketchup cup for the better part of five minutes.

“I’m good, what do you mean?” Jisung asks, tossing the fry into his mouth. It’s mushy and covered in too much ketchup, and when he swallows his mouth tastes mostly of vinegar and salt.

“You seem out of it. You were in a really good mood at work, what happened?” Hyujin asks.

“I… I actually can’t talk about it too much. I’m good though. Don’t worry,” Jisung responds with a big smile. His friends both return it, if not a bit hesitantly, lightening his mood significantly.

“So why were you in such a good mood? You were practically glowing this morning. You get laid or what?” Hyunjin asks, giggling when Felix groans and buries his head in his hands. 

“What? No! I didn’t get laid, I promise you that. If I did I’d be shouting it from the rooftops,” Jisung says, trying not to sound panicked. “The drought has ended! The dam has broken!” he mock shouts to the world.

“Well did you meet someone?” Felix asks, seemingly done with being embarrassed and choosing to embrace his friends behavior instead. Did Jisung meet someone? He met Minho, but Minho wasn’t really someone he was trying to mess around with. 

“Kind of. I have a neighbor on the other side now, his name’s Minho. He seems cool, I think we could be friends. I helped him unpack a little last night,” Jisung explains. It’s not the full story, but it’s not a lie. He’s not sure why he feels hesitant to fully explain the situation.

“Boring,” Hyunjin says, tossing a french fry at Jisung. He chucks it back, admiring how it lands perfectly on top of Hyunjins sandwich. 

“Fine, then what about you?” Jisung asks, watching as Hyunjin picks up his soda and takes a long sip through the straw, eyes looking away and face getting a little pink. _Guess I’m not the only one unwilling to share._

When Jisung arrives home, it’s to the rhythmic sound of hammering. He puts his things away and changes clothes, then looks over at the wall the banging is coming from, the one that connects to Minho’s living room. Jisung walks over and waits for the pounding to die down before forming his hand into a fist and tapping a little tune onto the wall. It’s silent for a second, and then the tune is mirrored back with a few extra notes on the end. He repeats the process once again, adding his own spin, but doesn’t receive an addition. Instead he hears a muffled voice through the wall. 

“Jisung?” it shouts. Jisung cups his hands around his mouth, pressing against the wall and raising his voice to try and get his message through.

“Hey Minho! I told you the walls were thin!” Jisung yells. 

“What?!”

Jisung laughs, grabbing his keys and putting on a pair of sandals to head out of his unit. He walks the couple feet down to Minho’s door and knocks, surprised when the door opens instantly.

“Oh, hey! I was just going to pay you a visit. What were you saying?” Minho says, looking a little flustered. 

“I said the walls were thin,” Jisung responds, smiling a little too wide. Minho steps back into his unit and ushers Jisung in, shutting the door behind him. “Woah, you got a lot done today! It looks great in here,” Jisung says, admiring the work Minho has completed. His bare walls are now covered in art, one piece hanging right around where they would have been shouting at each other a minute ago. 

“Thanks! I hope the hammering didn’t disturb you. I don’t want to be evil neighbor number two,” Minho says.

“Oh, no, I just got home,” Jisung responds. Minho has taken a seat on the couch, leaning his head back and breathing deeply. “Hey, sorry for crashing here last night. I didn’t mean to put you out, I must have just fallen into a food coma,” Jisung says, taking a seat next to him. 

“You didn’t put me out, don’t worry. If you were a bother I’d have woken you, but you seemed like you needed the sleep. Honestly, so did I,” Minho says, cracking his neck and then picking his head back up. “Hey, I want to see the layout of your place.”

“Oh. It’s pretty bare bones still, but that’s fine,” Jisung says, digging through his mind to try and remember if he’s left any trash laying out. Or underwear. _Or both_. He leads the way into his unit, poking his head through the door to take a look around before opening it fully. _Safe._

“You weren’t lying about the kitchen,” Minho says, looking around at the near-empty room. Jisung has approximately two feet of counter space, so he’d prioritized a kitchen table when moving in and almost nothing else. The table, the four chairs he’d found off craigslist, and his two year old tv sitting sadly on the floor are the only things in his living room thus far. “Nice decor, though,” he says with a cheeky smile.

“Fit for royalty, if I do say so myself,” Jisung responds, putting on his most confident voice. He hoists one leg onto a chair and puts his hands on his hips in a regal stance. “In order to maintain power within the household, nothing must be above the king of the home. That’s why my TV lives on the floor.”

“I understand, your grace,” Minho says, dipping to one knee below him. Jisung laughs and grabs his hands, pulling him back up. 

“Do you want any water? Soda? Anything?” Jisung asks, trying his hand at being a host. This is the first time anyone has set foot in an apartment that’s in _his_ name. He wants to do it right. 

“Water sounds good, I’ve been doing housework all day,” Minho responds, taking a seat at the table. Jisung brings two glasses over and takes the seat across from him. “Oh, by the way, I saved a couple slices of pizza for you if you want the leftovers for dinner tonight. We still had like half the thing left, and I’m pretty sure it’s still good.” Jisung puts one hand over his heart and another over his mouth in excitement.

“You’re the best neighbor ever.”

* * *

Sleep does not come easily that night. Jisung and Minho had hung out for a few hours, Minho grabbing the pizza from his fridge and bringing it into Jisung’s apartment so they could share it for dinner once again. He’d left right after, saying he still had some projects he wanted to get done before the end of the day, and Jisung saw him off happily. He’d watched an episode of a Naruto rerun on his floor TV, gotten ready for bed, and laid down, ready for another restful night after a fulfilling day. And then, just as his eyes began to slip closed, the muffled sound of EDM started. An hour later Jisung is still laying in bed, eyes closed with a pillow over his head, unable to rest. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters to himself, dragging his comforter and pillow off the bed and bringing them into the living room, bedroom door shutting behind him. He finds the comfiest spot he can on his ugly old carpet, tosses his pillow down, and curls up on the floor. It’s mildly humiliating, but at least it’s quiet, and so there he lies; a grown ass twenty one year old man with a decent paying job and an apartment of his own finds rest on his unfurnished living room floor. 

Work the next day is a solid six out of ten. It’s not too busy, not too slow, his employees are on time, his customers are happy. Jisung is just a little on edge from his conversation with Seungmin the day before and the strange noises he’d heard while sleeping on the floor. He’d never really considered that his building might be haunted until he listened to the floorboards at three in the morning. Three more days until he gets his paycheck; at least then he can get a nice couch to sleep on. Before leaving, he has Seungmin ring him up for a few pastries and an iced americano, waving goodbye as he leaves. When he gets to his building he doesn’t go straight to his unit, instead knocking on Minho’s door. After a moment Minho opens it, seeming very dishevelled; his brown hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly and his glasses are nearly falling off the bridge of his chiseled nose. He opens the door wider and ushers Jisung in without a word.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Jisung says, looking around the unit. There’s a big stack of papers on the kitchen island and a laptop open in front of them, and Jisung figures he’s clearly pulled Minho from his schoolwork. “I just… I brought a present,” he says, holding up the coffee and pastries.

“God bless you,” Minho says, grabbing the coffee and taking a huge sip, then placing it on the island. Jisung follows and places the pastry bag down next to it, which Minho digs through and pulls out a cookie. He takes a bite and moans in pleasure, pulling Jisung into a hug while he swallows. He smells like cherry blossom and almond, and Jisung is A bit reluctant to let him pull away.

“What did I walk in on?” Jisung asks, gesturing at the stack of work. 

“Lesson planning. I have to teach a class in the fall semester, I’m trying to get the work knocked out early. It’s a massive pain in the ass,” he says, sitting down and letting his upper body slump over the table. “Thank you for the pick-me-up.”

“Oh, no problem. I’m one of the assistant managers at the coffee shop a few blocks down. If you ever need something to wake you up, just text me,” Jisung says. Minho grunts in agreement, then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, shoving it towards Jisung. He stares at it for a second in confusion.

“Number. We never swapped numbers. We can use morse code or whatever if we’re both at home, but cell phones are probably easier if either of us ever leave,” Minho explains. 

“Right!” Jisung says, grabbing the phone and putting in his number. He sends himself a text so he can save Minho’s later and puts the phone back on the table. 

“Actually, I’m glad you stopped by. I have something for you,” Minho says, picking himself up and digging through one of his drawers. He comes up with something small and shiny, and when Jisung looks closer he sees a set of keys. 

“What’s this?” Jisung asks as he grabs them, although the answer is clear.

“Spare keys. I hope that’s ok, I just want someone in the building to have a set in case I get locked out. You’re my neighbor, I hoped it could be you?” he asks, sounding a little sheepish.

“You’ve only known me for three days, do you really trust me with these?” Jisung asks, spinning them around his finger. He’s not sure why he’s questioning it, he has no intention of giving them back.

“Yeah, of course. You brought me coffee, I’d give you my social security number if you asked,” Minho says with a smile. Jisung laughs and puts the keys in his pocket. “I’ll save them for dire times. Wait here.”

Jisung runs out of Minho’s place and into his own, digging through his own junk drawer. He knows he had a set of spare keys made, intending on giving them to Felix whenever he came over next. Somehow this feels more appropriate. He walks back over to Minho’s door, using the spare set of keys to unlock it. 

“Surprise!” Jisung yells as he throws the door open, watching as Minho jumps up in his seat a little. 

“Wow, it’s been three minutes and I already regret this,” Minho says, waiting for Jisung to walk over to him.

“Don’t be like that, I have another present,” Jisung says, picking up Minho’s hand and placing his keys in them. “For dire times.”

“I’m honored,” he whispers dramatically, looking up and smiling widely at Jisung, eyes sparkling. 

“Alright, Minho,” Jisung says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “This is where I leave for today. Best of luck on your lesson plan. I’m off to plot my evil neighbors murder.”

When Jisung gets back to his place, he tears through all the school supplies he had yet to unpack, looking for a sharpie. When he finds it, he gets settled at the table, pulling Minho’s key out. He carefully draws a little ‘M’ on it in bubble font, trying to make it cute. Jisung holds it up and looks at it, deciding it needs something more and adding three little whiskers to each side (he’d seen more cat paraphernalia around Minho’s apartment today). He lets the keys dry and stores them carefully in his junk drawer (or as carefully as one can when placing something in a junk drawer). 

A little voice in the back of Jisung’s head tells him he’s too excited. _Why are you so giddy over a new friend? If anything having a key just means you’re gonna get woken up in the middle of the night to let him in._ He can’t help it, though. His two best friends are now also his employees, aka people he most certainly _cannot_ vent about work to, and he doesn’t meet new people easily. Minho is nice, and easy to talk to, and funny. _And easy on the eyes._

He tells the voice to shut it.

Jisung goes about his nightly routine much as he normally would; a little TV, some instant ramen, an audiobook in his ears entertaining him as he finally convinces himself to unpack some more boxes. When it comes time to sleep, he weighs his options. His bed is comfortable. It smells nice, the sheets are soft, he has a variety of pillows to choose from. But he might have to listen to his neighbors nightly solo rave. If he lays on the floor, there’s no music, but it’s still not really quiet. It creaks, and he can still hear the pipes, every time he brushes against something he jumps thinking it’s a rodent, and he’ll wake up sore and humiliated. He settles for the bed.

But now, laying awake at one in the morning, he’s desperate for a third option. He pulls out his phone, typing a message into it that’s probably overstepping at least four different boundaries. Even so, it may be worth a shot.

Jisung _(1:03 am): are you awake?_

_Minho (1:03 am): no_

_Jisung (1:05 am): this might sound crazy, so no pressure_

_Jisung (1:05 am): but can I sleep on your couch?_

_Jisung (1:07 am): I’ll be gone before you even wake up it’s just so loud in here and I’ll have my own couch in like 3 days and I can sleep on it then I’m just so tired_

_Minho (1:08 am): Sure. I’m already in bed can you just use your key?_

_Jisung (1:08 am): you’re the best person I’ve ever met in my entire life_

Jisung can’t believe Minho actually said yes. Either he’s way too trusting or Jisung just looks too weak to rob him of anything, but regardless, Jisung is going to get some sleep. He pulls his firmest pillow off the bed and tosses his comforter over his shoulder, sliding on sandals and grabbing Minho’s key from the drawer before heading over. Briefly, Jisung considers bringing a five dollar bill with him to pay Minho back for his hospitality, but instead decides he’ll just pay him with coffee the next day. He opens the door quietly, stepping into Minho’s pitch black apartment and tiptoeing over to the couch before carefully placing his pillow down and arranging himself in the most comfortable way he can. The apartment smells like cherry blossom and almond, just like Minho himself, and Jisung wonders if it’s the work of a scented candle. Whatever it is, it’s pleasant enough to lull him to sleep in a matter of minutes. 

The screeching of one alarm isn’t often enough to wake Jisung up. The screeching of three alarms usually does the trick, which is why they go off at 5:00 a.m., 5:15 a.m., and 5:30 a.m. Unfortunately Jisung did not think that through when inviting himself to Minho’s, and thus he is awoken at 5:17 a.m. to a violent shaking of his shoulders.

“Mom, stop, I have fifteen more minutes,” Jisung grumbles sleepily, squeezing his eyes shut. He feels more shaking and pulls his comforter over his head, and then a large weight settles on top of him. “Mom, stooooop,” Jisung whines. The blanket is ripped off of him and Jisung blinks sleepily trying to adjust to the light.

“I’m not your mom,” he hears a gruff voice grunt out. Jisung blinks a few more times and starts to recognize a sharp nose and sleek brown hair.

“Oh, shit. Minho. Sorry,” Jisung says, slowly getting up and adjusting to his surroundings.

“I said you could sleep on my couch because you told me, and I quote, ‘I’ll be gone before you even wake up’” Minho says, clearly annoyed. In his half awake state Jisung doesn’t know how to deal with being reprimanded like this, so he does the first thing he can think of and puts his hand over Minho’s mouth to effectively silence him. 

“I said sorry. I’m leaving. Please stop yelling, it’s very early,” Jisung whispers, grabbing his belongings with one arm so he can keep Minho quiet. When he finally releases it, Minho breathes in deeply.

“Jisung you need to talk to your neighbor. Or switch shifts. Figure it out,” Minho says, placing his hands on his hips. It’s hard to take him seriously when he’s only wearing a big shirt and boxers with cartoon cats all over them, but Jisung has collected that Minho is a very grumpy morning person. He feels badly, but he’s not really sure what to do, so he just shakes his head in agreement and starts walking towards the door.

“I will. Sorry for waking you. Get some sleep, I’ll bring you a nice coffee when I get off to make it up,” Jisung says.

“And two cookies,” Minho says, walking back into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him, leaving Jisung alone to flee the unit.

Halfway through his shift, when he’s sure it’s not too early, Jisung sends Minho an apology text. He still feels bad for waking his friend up, and he’s kind of scared he’d ruined things.

_Jisung (12:05 pm): I’m really sorry again for waking you up. I hope you’re not mad. Name any coffee you want and I’ll bring it, plus your 2 cookies._

_Minho (12:12 pm): Sorry if I was rude. I’m not a morning person. If you’re not going to talk to your neighbor you really should switch shifts or something though, what you’re doing isn’t healthy._

_Minho (12:13 pm): Also I want a large latte, soy, with 10 pumps of vanilla extra sugar add whipped cream_

_Jisung (12:15 pm): ?????_

_Minho (12:15 pm): Jk just bring me another iced americano_

_Jisung (12:16 pm): :)_

Switching shifts is probably not a bad idea, if he can convince Seungmin to do it. He wouldn’t have to go to sleep at eight like a grandpa anymore, he could just sleep whenever the music stopped and wake up right before the afternoon shift. It’s actually kind of perfect. _If_ he can convince Seungmin. So when the other manager arrives for his shift at one, Jisung pulls him into the office. 

“Seungmin, I have a massive favor to ask of you,” Jisung starts. He’s willing to beg a little if he needs to, but only a little. He has his dignity to uphold. 

“Oh?” Seungmin asks, raising a brow.

“So the thing is… Things are working against me in my building, and it’s pretty complicated, but long story short, do you think we could trade shifts?” Jisung asks.

“What, like next week?” Seungmin questions, taking a seat on top of one of the filing cabinets.

“Like, permanently. Or at least until school starts back up, and then we can work it out based on classes. I know it’s a huge ask, and I don’t want to be a pain in the ass but-”

“Fine,” Seungmin interrupts. _Fine? That was easy._ Jisung must look confused, because Seungmin sighs, closing the door to the office. “We can switch. I’m a decent morning person, and honestly, it’s kind of doing me a favor. You open with Hyunjin and Felix,” Seungmin explains. Oh shit, Jisung hadn’t thought about that. He’d be seeing them a lot less. “Hyunjin and Felix are good at their jobs, despite Hyunjin’s tardiness issue. They’re easy. Our closing crew… they’ve got some attitudes. If you want to whip them in to shape, be my guest.” 

“Am I going to regret this?” Jisung asks nervously. He didn’t work many closing shifts as a barista. He knows Jeongin, who kind of floats from opening to closing shifts covering other people's days off, but the other two are practically strangers.

“I don’t know. Donghyuck and Renjun are both smart, they’re fully capable, they just have mouths on them. I think you’ll be fine as long you practice your customer service apology,” Seungmin says, leaning back and laughing. “Man, opening with Felix and Hyunjin. My life’s about to get so damn easy. When do you work next?”

“I’m off the next two days. I’ll just text Johnny and tell him we’re switching from now on?” Jisung asks. 

“Sure. Are you ever going to tell me why we’re doing this?” Seungmin responds, looking like he wants the dirt. 

“It’s a long story,” Jisung says. Seungmin opens the door and pokes his head out into the shop, then closes it again.

“Store’s dead. We’ve got time.”

Jisung explains everything to Seungmin, who seems to find a great deal of amusement in his pain based on his frequent laughter. He’s actually pretty easy to talk to. Maybe Jisung has more work friends than he thought. 

* * *

When Jisung gets home, he gravitates straight to Minho’s door again, putting on his most apologetic face for when Minho opens up. He sticks his bottom lip out a bit, channels his puppy dog eyes, and puffs out his cheeks. When Minho opens the door he can tell it works, because his scowl instantly melts as he reaches up to ruffle Jisung’s hair.

“Please stop looking at me like that. I’m sorry for being a dick, but I can’t handle the puppy dog eyes,” Minho says, opening the door wider for Jisung to slip through. He receives his coffee and cookies with joy, clearly having spent the entire day working once again.

“Sorry for the alarms. It won’t happen again, scout’s honor,” Jisung replies, giving a small salute. “You working the rest of the day?”

“Yeah, probably,” Minho sighs, sitting at the kitchen island and pulling the other stool out for Jisung.

“Well, what about tomorrow? Are you free?” Jisung asks. “Oh, and do you have a car?”

“Yes, and yes, why?” Minho responds, looking at Jisung suspiciously. Jisung twirls in his chair, looking up at the ceiling to avoid the intense gaze.

“Well, does it happen to be a pickup? I get paid tomorrow, and I want to get a couch, so I was wondering if you may wish to join me? It’ll be fun!” Jisung says enthusiastically. This is a setup. He knows Minho has a pickup truck, he saw it on move-in day, and he himself is severely lacking in the wheels department. 

“How will that be fun for me?” Minho asks with a smile, putting his foot on Jisung’s stool to keep him in one spot.

“Because I’m fun. And I have terrible taste in furniture, so I’ll probably listen to whatever you say. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I’ve been told I’m normally quite bullheaded,” Jisung says, pulling out the puppy dog eyes again. 

“You don’t say,” Minho says with an eye-roll. “Well, I need a few odds and ends anyways. Where did you want to go?”

“Perfect! You won’t regret it!” Jisung says, jumping out of his seat and wrapping his arms around Minho. “There’s a furniture warehouse a few miles away where you can take things home same-day. Work was slow, I did my research.” Minho wraps his arms back around Jisung gently, patting him on the back a few times.

“Alright, you win, you can stop,” Minho laughs, although he himself doesn’t let go. “What time should we meet?”

“I’m sleeping in. Noon?”

“Noon sounds good,” Minho confirms, and Jisung finally pulls away. 

“Ok, I’m taking my leave! See you at noon!” he says, dashing out of the door and into his own unit. 

It strikes Jisung about an hour later that he hadn’t told Minho the good news about swapping shifts, and for some reason it’s been gnawing at him. Ever since Minho had moved in and invited him to vent, he kind of feels like they’re in this thing together, and right now he’s withholding information. Nothing bad will happen if he just waits until tomorrow at noon, but he’s excited to share. He even thinks about going over there, but he knows Minho is working and decides against it, instead sending a quick text. He has the rest of the afternoon free, so he puts his audiobook back in his ears and starts on his dreaded closet organization.

Three hours later, there’s still no text back. Jisung may be a lot of things, but patient is not one of them, and he wants to share his triumph. He’s already called Hyunjin and Felix and told them about his shift change, and while they’re kind of sad, they understand. Hyunjin in particular is very congratulatory, to the point where it’s a bit hard not to be offended, but Jisung shoves that out of his mind quickly. The fact is, he’s bored, and he wants some entertainment even if it’s fleeting. So Jisung walks over to a spot on the wall he now knows somewhat aligns with where Minho is sitting and taps an eccentric rhythm into it. He waits a few moments, listening for a response, and tries again when none comes. The second time, he gets a slew of taps back which are in no way correlated with Jisung’s tune but excite him nonetheless. 

“Minho!” Jisung shouts through the wall, pressing as close as possible. 

“What?” he hears back in Minho’s muffled voice.

“CHECK. YOUR. PHONE.” he responds, trying to make the words as clear as possible. He hears Minho step away from the wall, then silence for a minute. When Minho finally seems to come back, he gets the response he’s been waiting for.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOO,” Minho whoops, loud enough for everyone on the floor to hear without a problem. Jisung laughs, then responds in the same fashion. He can’t even bring himself to feel ashamed, not with everything his neighbor’s put him through. Satisfied with the reaction and the response text Minho sends a few moments later, Jisung goes back to lounging. He’s coming to realize that living on his own is kind of boring, used to the hustle of dorm life. He isn’t accustomed to the quiet.

Jisung doesn’t smoke very often; cigarettes never, weed sometimes. But he’s bored. So incredibly bored. So he digs through the little bag he keeps in his closet, pulling out a tin with a couple pre-rolls he’d bought to get him through finals and never finished and a pretty pink and black tie-dyed lighter. He heads over to his living room window, not wanting to hotbox the place, and removes the screen so he can lean outside a little as he lights up. His window faces the back of the building, so nobody can see his coughing fit as the smoke fills his lungs. He finishes half the joint and sticks it back in the tin, letting the haziness seep in to make his cartoons a little more entertaining and his body a little more fluid.

Sleeping in is truly the unspoken eighth wonder of the world. It’s amazing, it leaves you rejuvenated, it feels like a present for your body and mind. Jisung awakens refreshed and happy at ten in the morning, allows himself a warm, relaxing shower, even lets himself lay back on his bed naked for a few minutes before getting dressed (he swears the most peaceful one can be is laying clean and naked in their place of rest). He’s kind of excited to have an excuse to wear normal clothing instead of his uniform or pajama pants, taking his time selecting the perfect combination of jeans, t-shirt, and flannel. He even throws on a couple rings that he can’t wear for sanitary purposes at work, feeling bad that they’ve been collecting dust. When he looks at his phone, it’s 11:45, so he sits at his table and messes around on his phone for the next fifteen minutes, then gets up and knocks on his wall a few times before heading out into the hallway.

Minho seems to have gotten the message, because they step into the hallway at the same time, and Jisung realizes this is the first time he’s seen Minho in normal clothes too. He’s dressed simply, black jeans and a big denim button up, but his hair is pushed back and he’s got sunglasses on and _damn_. _He looks really good._

“You ready?” Minho asks after a few seconds, and Jisung realizes in the back of his head that Minho had kind of been checking him out too. 

“I’m ready,” Jisung says, jogging up to Minho so they can head towards the elevator together. “It’s weird seeing you in normal clothes.”

“What? You got a problem with my outfit, stoner boy?” Minho laughs, tugging on Jisung’s flannel. 

“Hey, I’m not a stoner,” Jisung whines, swatting his hand away.

“Then someone broke into your apartment to smoke last night, because I could smell it through the vents,” Minho laughs, stepping out of the elevator and leading Jisung to his truck. Jisung can feel his ears heat up a little, embarrassed that he got caught.

“Ok, fine,” Jisung says, jogging to catch up and lowering his voice. “I don’t smoke often, I was just bored, ok? Don’t spread it around, nobody really knows.”

“First of all, I don’t care, I think it’s a fine way to relax. Second of all, I don’t know any of your friends, so who would I spread it around to? I don’t even know if you have friends,” Minho asks, throwing an arm around Jisung’s shoulders to comfort him.

“I don’t know, I just don’t want it to get back to work. It’s legal and all but nobody really knows I smoke,” Jisung says, looking up at Minho. “And I do have friends, by the way.”

“Oh?” Minho says, unlocking the truck and pulling the door open for Jisung. “Then why are you always hanging around me?” Jisung watches as Minho walks around the truck to the drivers side. It’s not a bad question. He doesn’t really know how to answer it.

“Because you’re my friend too,” Jisung says, looking up at the mirror in front of him when Minho gets into his seat and starts driving. He doesn’t respond, but when Jisung peeks over he’s smiling, and he kind of wishes the sunglasses weren’t there so he could watch the way he knows Minho’s eyes crease up into little crescent moons.

“So, tell me where I’m going,” Minho says, pulling out of the lot. 

“I thought we’d start at the secondhand store, see if we can thrift anything cheap, and then head to the warehouse. I’ll use a secondhand coffee table or whatever, but I won’t sit on someone else's nasty old couch.”

“Agreed,” Minho says, hanging a left and bringing them to their first stopoff. 

They’re surprisingly successful at the thrift shop. Jisung finds a decent coffee table and some lamps that he can use, as well as some dishes just in case he ever decides to cook. He also sees a little cat figure on sale for two dollars, which he sneaks away to buy while Minho is looking around. Minho himself gets a couple coasters and some extra hangers, looking surprisingly happy with his small finds. Just as they’re about to leave, Jisung sees something out of the corner of his eye.

“Woahh,” he exclaims, running over to inspect it. It’s a big bookcase, clearly very old but beautifully crafted. It would need to be sanded and restained, but Jisung wants it. “I need this.”

“A bookcase? Is that your priority right now?” Minho asks, running his finger through a coat of dust and flicking it away.

“Yeah, all my books are packed away and I think I can hear them crying every night. I probably never mentioned it, but I’m a lit major. My babies would be so happy living in this,” Jisung says, looking around for the pricing. “It’s only fifty dollars!”

“It’s huge, though. We’d have to stop back at home before going to get the sofa,” Minho frowns, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Please?” Jisung asks, pouting his bottom lip out. Minho looks unaffected, still frowning at the heavy piece. “I’ll pull out the puppy dog eyes if I need to again.”

“Oh my god, you are seriously such a princess. Fine. Thank god I'm in engineering, I just have to house my laptop. Go find an employee, I’m gonna pull the truck around and load the other stuff up first,” Minho sighs, admitting defeat. Jisung jumps up and down and claps, thrilled with his find. He makes the purchase and with a lot of grunting and a little elbow grease he and Minho load everything up, making their way home. Luckily the building engineer is doing some work outside and they’re able to sweet talk him into opening up the freight elevator so they can get their stuff up in one go.

They stop in Minho’s place first to drop off his purchases, and when Jisung is sure he’s out of sight he opens up one of the kitchen cabinets and puts the cat figure inside, sitting happily in a cereal bowl for Minho to find later. It’s winking at him happily and licking one paw, and Jisung can’t imagine a better thing for Minho to see first thing in the morning.

When they head back out to see the furniture warehouse, Jisung is utterly lost.

“This place is massive,” he says, looking around in wonder. The place is almost endless, furniture packed back to back all the way around. “There’s no way I can test out every sofa in here.”

“Was that your initial plan?” Minho asks, looking a little overwhelmed himself. Jisung nods silently. “Ok, well let’s narrow it down. What color do you want?”

“I don’t know. My favorite color is red,” Jisung responds.

“But do you want a red sofa? Is that something you’re going to want to keep with you in the future?” Minho asks. Jisung thinks about it. It’s probably an obnoxious choice. He’d be safer with something neutral.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should do brown?” he questions. Minho nods, seeming a bit more enthusiastic about that plan.

“Then we’ll just test the brown ones. That should make it a little easier,” he says. They start moving around the store, testing out the sofas they find that fit the bill. They stray away from leather; too expensive, a little too hard to maintain. Twenty minutes in, Jisung has sat on an impressive number of comfy couches, but none of them really _spark joy_. He tries out another uninspiring choice and looks across the room when something catches his eye, and he gets up without a word and gravitates towards a deep burgundy corduroy couch.

“I have a good feeling about this one,” Jisung says when Minho catches up to him.

“It’s… red,” Minho says, keeping his tone neutral. Jisung sits down on it and instantly feels like he’s being enveloped in a cloud. “You look happy,” Minho says with a laugh.

“Do I look good on it?” Jisung asks, switching his position so he’s laying on his side with his head propped up on his arm. “Do you want to draw me like one of your french girls?” Minho laughs again, grabbing his phone and snapping a picture. 

“You two suit each other. And as far as red sofas go, it’s pretty tame. Is this the one?” Minho asks.

“This is the one,” Jisung affirms. They hunt around for a little longer, Jisung finding a nice fluffy rug to decorate his floor with and a small console table. On the way home, Minho pulls into a gas station to fill up, and Jisung runs into the store to grab a twelve pack of beer. 

“That’s a lot of beer for one person,” Minho says when Jisung gets back to the car and holds it up.

“It’s not for one person. I helped you unpack, you’re going to help me move this stuff and christen the place,” Jisung responds. Minho hums in agreement and rolls the windows down for the rest of the ride, and Jisung shuts his eyes, leans his head back, and enjoys the wind in his hair. 

Once everything is in Jisung’s unit, the hard work begins. They lay down the fluffy grey rug as a place-marker, but Jisung insists they do a test.

“Come here,” he says, grabbing Minho’s hand and pulling him to the rug. He sits down and motions for Minho to do the same, then lays down. “It feels soooo good,” Jisung says, making rug angels with his limbs. 

“This might be the best thing you bought today,” Minho agrees, laying on his stomach and placing his cheek down on it.  
  
  


“This would have been really nice to have when I slept on the floor a few nights ago,” Jisung says, switching to the same position as Minho so they’re facing each other. His face falls, and Jisung isn’t sure why, but he feels like he said something wrong.

“You really slept on the floor?” Minho asks, putting his hand on the side of Jisung's face and pouting.

“I had to get away from the noise. The floor was spooky though, would not recommend,” Jisung replies, trying to smile so Minho can stop looking at him like that.

“We need to talk to this damn neighbor. You shouldn’t be sleeping on floors, Jisung,” he says, looking a little too serious for Jisung’s liking. Jisung stands up quickly and claps his hands, ready for a shift in mood. 

“Well, my schedule should help now! Or I can sleep on this sexy red couch! So let’s move it into place,” he says enthusiastically, watching Minho get up and follow. They move everything into new homes, aside from the bookcase (Jisung insists he’s going to sand and refinish it), and settle down onto the couch with their ice cold beers. 

“The TV is easier to watch now that it’s at eye level,” Minho says, taking a sip of beer and putting his feet up. Jisung knocks them down with a scowl.

“That is my brand new coffee table, at least take your shoes off before you scuff it up,” he says, dusting it off. 

“This coffee table is at least twelve years old. It’s already covered in scuffs,” Minho replies, slipping off his shoes anyway and putting his feet back up. Jisung follows suit. They watch TV in silence for a little bit, relaxing after the busy day, but as the beer starts digesting they get chatty, sinking into the sofa and letting their thoughts flow. 

“This is really nice,” Jisung sighs, shutting his eyes. “I’ve got my own place, I’ve got my promotion, I’ve got this dope couch, great friends. I’m pretty happy.”

“What else can we ask for in life?” Minho agrees, and Jisung feels him sink even closer into the couch. He thinks about it for a while, but only one thing comes to mind.

“Sex. God it’s been a long time since I had sex. I don’t even remember the month,” Jisung says, letting his head tilt to the side. Minho lets out a low whistle. “Even a kiss. What is it now, June? It’s been three months.”

“Four for me. Kissed some random girl at a valentine’s day party. It sucked,” Minho says. 

“Why?” Jisung asks.

“It was part of some party game. We were playing truth or dare and we were just supposed to have a staring contest. She decided to kiss me instead for some reason,” Minho responds. 

“She sounds like a wimp. Staring contests aren’t that hard, you just have to unfocus your eyes,” Jisung says, looking up at the ceiling. 

“It’s not her fault, I’m just really good,” Minho replies.

“I’m pretty sure I’m better, but I’m sure you’re fine too,” Jisung laughs. 

“You want to find out? It’d be my pleasure to prove you wrong,” Minho says. That sounds like a challenge, and Jisung doesn’t back down from challenges.

“Fine, get on your knees and face me. Let’s do this,” Jisung replies, shifting his position and putting his hands in his lap. Minho follows suit, and they close their eyes in preparation. “Alright, I’m going to count to three and then we open our eyes,” he says, breathing in deeply. “1,2,3…”

They both open their eyes, and Jisung realizes he’d forgotten one thing; he’s definitely got a thing for Minho’s eyes. They're so pretty and deep and sparkly, and they look like they hold all the knowledge in the world. He’s going to go weak for them. He’s going to have to play dirty. Jisung leans in closer, scrunching his face up into something weird and tilting his head a little. Minho smiles, but doesn’t blink, so he leans in a little more.

“You know, if you’re trying to make me gay panic, it’s not going to work,” Minho mumbles, scooting closer himself.

“Why do you say that?” Jisung asks, leaning forwards a little more.

“Because I’m gay,” Minho replies, looking into Jisung’s eyes. _This is new information._ He had his suspicions, but when Minho started talking about kissing that girl he got a little thrown off. Now Jisung stares him down the same way Minho is doing to him, crawling forwards a little so they can keep the game going. His eyes are going a little blurry, but he can still keep going. Their noses are touching now, and Jisung can see tears starting to blur Minho’s vision. He leans forward a little more, hoping for at least a little shock value, but Minho is playing the same game, and when he leans forward their lips are _so_ close to touching. He puts a hand behind Jisung’s head, pale fingers tangling through deep brown hair, grip just tight enough to keep him in place.

“So am I,” Jisung says, feeling the warmth of Minho’s lips every time he speaks. His eyes have become unfocused at this point, and everything is blurred.

“Hey Jisung?” Minho asks, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah?”

“I think I get it,”

“Get what?”

“Why that girl decided to kiss me.”

“Oh.”

“Hey Jisung?” Minho asks, leaning a little closer.

“Yeah?” 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and though his eyes stay open his gaze drops to Jisung’s lips. _What the hell?_ He thought he and Minho were on a fast track to being great friends. He’s already halfway there. But right now, staring into Minho’s eyes, inhaling the scent of cherry blossoms and almond and a little bit of sweat, a kiss doesn’t seem too bad at all. Jisung lets his own eyes fall to Minho’s lips, pink and plush and waiting for a response, and it’s impossible to say no.

“Yeah,” Jisung says, letting his eyes fall shut and leaning in. It’s quick, barely more than a peck, and Minho pulls away with a smirk on his face.

“I win,” he says, clearly very satisfied with his victory.

“That’s not fair, I’m not going to kiss someone with my eyes open. It’s creepy,” Jisung pouts, a little unsure what’s going on but very sure he wants more. “I want a rematch.”

“Fine, we can have a rematch,” Minho says, and Jisung closes his eyes for a few seconds to recuperate. He puts both hands on Minho’s shoulders, facing him head on again. This time Minho leads the countdown. “1,2,3.”

They start again, but this time Minho leans back a little bit, forcing Jisung to put one knee out to follow and keep his center of gravity. He leans back a little more and Jisung follows suit, now halfway in Minho’s lap. Their faces are farther away than last time, and for some reason Jisung doesn’t like that, so he inches in a little closer, and then even more. Minho does the same until their noses are touching, then looks down at Jisung’s lips. 

“Fuck it, you win,” he says, shutting his eyes and closing the gap to steal another kiss. Jisung feels Minho transition from a simple press of their mouths against each other to something with more form, something with a rhythm and an interlocking of lips, and lets himself get caught up. He feels the urge to climb further forward and let himself sit fully in Minho’s lap, but pulls away before he can go too far. When he looks at Minho, he’s smiling and a little flushed, and Jisung assumes he must look much the same.

“Yeah, I win. What are we doing, by the way? Aren’t we supposed to be friends?” Jisung asks. It’s not that he didn’t like it, he _definitely_ likes kissing Minho, but he’d just gained a new friend, and relationships are messy, and he’s not in the market for messy.

“Of course we’re friends. Can’t two very single friends with very lonely lips find some solace in each other?” Minho asks, pulling his hand from Jisung’s hair and resting it on his cheek. “Or we can stop if you’re not comfortable with that.” Jisung contemplates that for a moment. It sounds pretty great, to be quite honest. He keeps his friend, gets a little lip on lip action. No mess, right?

“No, I like it,” Jisung says, putting his hand on top of the one Minho has resting on his cheek and smiling. He pushes Minho backwards, so he’s laying with his back on the couch, and follows suit himself as he lets one leg rest in between Minho’s and the other press against the backrest. “Sounds fun.”

Minho laces his fingers back into Jisung’s hair and pulls him back down, locking their lips together again. It’s a little deeper this time, less hesitant now that they’ve agreed on what they’re doing, and Jisung lets himself get a little bold. He’s not usually all that courageous with this stuff, and maybe it’s the beer or maybe it’s the fact that it’s Minho under him and he knows Minho won’t judge, but he gives into his urges to press little bites to his bottom lip and lick over the area after. He doesn’t dare go further, and when he feels Minho’s hands start to roam down his back and over his ass, he pulls back and sits up, trying to set some form of boundary.

“Too much,” Jisung says, pulling Minho’s hand away. He moves his hands to rest on Jisung’s hips, looking up at Jisung and smiling. 

“Noted. No more roaming hands,” he says, head turning to the side when a large crash sounds on the tv. He removes his hands quickly and props himself up on his elbows, trying to get a good view of what’s going on. Jisung scrambles off Minho’s lap as well, returning to a normal sitting position and leaning into the screen before grabbing his beer and taking a big gulp. An action movie has started in the time they were distracted and Minho mimics his movements, completely entranced. They spend the next two hours like that, gulping down beers and watching the movie, until it ends and Minho stands. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung says, still absorbed in the plot. “That movie was incredible.” Minho laughs, then grabs Jisung by the elbow and tugs gently, spurring the other to stand.

“It was. Do you want some food? I finally went grocery shopping yesterday, I’ll cook,” Minho says, stretching his arms up and cracking his neck. 

“Yes please!” Jisung replies, heading to the door and sliding on some slippers. They head to Minho’s apartment with their half empty case of beer in tow and Jisung sits at the island, now cleared of any work from the days before. Minho cooks something simple, pasta with a delicious pesto sauce and some chicken breast on top, and Jisung swears he’s in heaven. “God I love home-cooked food,” he moans after the second bite, watching the way Minho’s face lights up. 

“This is really simple, I’ll make something better next time,” he says, and Jisung nods as he chews.

“If this is simple, I’ll eat anything you make. I’m in heaven right now, you have a talent,” Jisung responds. Minho laughs, poking at his cheek as he chews, and gets to work on his own portion. They spend the rest of the night sitting there, Jisung scraping every last bit of sauce into his mouth as the two get lost in conversation. By the time Jisung looks at his phone, it’s midnight, and he feels like he may have overstayed his welcome. “It’s late,” he says, holding the phone up to Minho.

“Oh wow, it is. No wonder I’m getting tired,” Minho says, getting up and placing the dishes in his sink.

“Thanks for driving me around today. And shopping with me. It was really helpful,” Jisung says, wringing his hands as he stands up. “And for dinner. And uh… christening my couch.” Minho laughs at the last part, turning to look at Jisung and smiling.

“It was fun,” Minho says, and while he doesn’t specify anything Jisung has an idea of which part he’s referring to.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jisung asks as he heads towards the door and puts on his slippers.

“Tomorrow,” Minho confirms, and Jisung flees to his room. It’s only when he’s laying in bed a few hours later that he realizes they’d never actually made plans for the next day, he’d kind of just assumed. Minho was becoming such a prominent part of his life so quickly he was getting a little thrown off. They’d seen each other every day since they’d met, and it still didn’t feel like overkill. He was kind of enthralled by Lee Minho, that much was clear, he just wasn’t quite sure why.

Jisung wakes the next day to the sound of his phone ringing in his ear at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. When he looks at the i.d., he sees Hyunjin’s name and almost contemplates ignoring it until his conscience gets the better of him.

“Hello?” Jisung grumbles when he picks up, clearing his throat when he hears how gruff he sounds.

“Jisung? Oh, did I wake you? Sorry, my body wakes up early now, I thought yours did too,” Hyunjin replies, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It did, but I was up late last night. What’s going on?” Jisung asks, anxious to get to the point and go back to sleep.

“I was going to ask if you want to get brunch? It’s rare we’re both off on a Sunday, I thought it might be fun. Maybe around 10:30?” Hyunjin asks. Brunch actually sounds nice, and he feels bad he’s not going to be seeing much of Hyunjin pretty soon. Plus, if they meet at 10:30, he can still get in two more hours of sleep.

“Sure,” Jisung replies. “Text me the address, I’ll be there.”

“Are you going back to sleep, Sungie?” Hyunjin asks with a giggle. 

“I’ll be there, I promise,” Jisung says, hanging up and setting a new alarm. He wakes up at nine in order to make himself presentable and allow some time to walk to the restaurant, some place that opened recently and usually had a line. Thankfully, once the school year ends and summer settles in most of the town clears out, so when he gets there Hyunjin texts him saying he’s already got a table. 

“Sungie, I haven’t seen you in forever,” Hyunjin says excitedly when Jisung sits down.

“It’s been like a day and a half, Hyunjin,” Jisung laughs. 

“Yeah, but you haven’t been hanging with us after work. You keep rushing off with your coffee and pastries to go god knows where. Are you sure you haven’t been getting laid?” Hyunjin asks. Jisung pauses at that. The answer is still no, but after last night it’s a smidge closer to being true than it was the last time he’d been asked. “Oh my god, you’re blushing, you totally have!”

“I’m not blushing, and I haven’t been getting laid. You’re delusional,” Jisung laughs, flicking a straw wrapper at his friend. The server comes and fills their coffees, informing them of the specials, and leaves for a few minutes. Jisung gets a large order of belgian waffles, and Hyunjin orders an omelette. He also allows Hyunjin to talk him into getting mimosas, because ‘it would be a crime not to drink at brunch’ and Jisung leaves feeling floaty and happy with a half order of waffles in a takeaway bag. Hyunjin says he has errands to run, so they have to part ways, and Jisung carries himself home at a leisurely pace.

It’s fun hanging out with Hyunjin. He’s gotten a little caught up in Minho as a new presence in his life, but he feels kind of bad realizing he may have been neglecting Hyunjin and Felix. He makes a note to reach out on Felix’s next day off; he needs to be a better friend. Plus, it’s probably unhealthy to schedule his life around Minho lest he get too comfortable. He really likes his neighbor, but they’re just friends, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm him. Even so, when he gets to the third floor of his building, he’s knocking on Minho’s door before he can even think about it. It takes a minute, but Minho opens up, wearing kitty cat pajama pants and his denim shirt from yesterday and looking thoroughly disheveled. 

“I like your outfit,” Jisung giggles, letting himself in. Minho squints at him as he walks over to the kitchen island and pulls out his takeaway container. He looks around the apartment to see if anything is different, and to his surprise, only one thing has changed; the little cat figure he’d hidden from Minho is now the centerpiece of his coffee table. He smiles at the sight, feeling his cheeks warm up.

“Have you been drinking? Why do you look so preppy?” Minho asks, walking up behind Jisung and resting his chin on his shoulder. He fiddles with the collar on Jisung’s polo, popping the collar to make it look extra stupid. Jisung laughs, opening the box.

“I don’t know what you mean. This is just my brunch outfit,” Jisung responds. “I brought you waffles, are you sure you should be questioning me?” Minho walks over to his silverware without speaking, grabbing a set of utensils, then sitting down and pulling the waffles towards him and digging in.

“I didn’t take you for the brunch type, but thank you. Also if you were at brunch you’ve definitely been drinking,” Minho replies with a mouth full of waffle. 

“I didn’t take you for the type to sleep in dirty clothes, but here we are,” Jisung responds, playing with the cute salt and pepper shakers.

“I don’t sleep in dirty clothes. I don’t sleep in anything. But it’s usually not acceptable to open the door like that,” Minho responds, and Jisung drops the salt shaker at the thought. “Stop picturing me naked.”

“I would never,” Jisung says, widening his eyes innocently. “Did I wake you?”

“I’ve been up for half an hour but I was still in bed,” Minho responds. Jisung can tell there’s still sleep in his eyes and he hopes he didn’t interrupt a peaceful Sunday. “This isn’t a bad way to get up though. Would you like to be my full time waffle slave?”

“Do you pay well?” Jisung asks, playing along.

“I do not,” Minho responds.

“Then no thank you, I will keep my job as a coffee slave. I appreciate the offer though,” Jisung says. Minho swallows his last bite of waffle and looks over at Jisung.

“Hey, not to kick you out or anything, but I really need to shower,” Minho says, looking a little guilty. Jisung shoots up, grabbing the takeaway container and tossing it in the trash.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really consider your schedule when I knocked. It’s your Sunday, I’ll head out now,” Jisung says, waving his arms as he speaks.

“I told you I was already awake, calm down Jisung,” Minho says, grabbing him by the shoulders to hold him still. “I just feel dirty and a little hungover and want to shower. You did nothing wrong. What are you doing today?” 

“I’m gonna run to the hardware store and get a sander and wood stain. I want to work on the bookshelf,” Jisung responds, feeling instantly soothed. 

“If you want to hang out, just text me when you’re back. I’m not good at stuff like that but I can certainly watch you struggle from your couch,” Minho laughs, and Jisung rolls his eyes. 

“Fine, if you’re that bored,” Jisung says, faking exasperation. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Jisung goes home and peels his nice clothes off, putting on a paint-splattered pair of overalls and a t-shirt, then sets out to get his supplies. The wood stain comes in all sorts of colors, and Jisung considers what his beloved bookshelf would look like in red to match his couch, but ultimately decides to honor its past and stick with chestnut brown. He rents a sander and buys some tarps, then looks around at everything he’s collected and pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding Minho’s contact information and hitting dial.

“ _Hey, are you home already? That was fast, I just got out of the shower”_

_“Uhh… any chance you can pick me up?”_

_“What? Where are you?”_

_“So I’m at the hardware store, and did you know sanders are like, huge? And that bookcase is big, so I got two small cans of stain, and well, I just don’t have quite enough arms.”_

_“I’ll be there in ten minutes, do you think you can last, princess?”_

_“Yes sir!”_

Jisung hangs up the phone, trying to disguise the goofy smile on his face as he finds a place to sit. As annoyed as Minho had tried to sound, Jisung is quickly realizing that he doesn’t really care about being dragged around, which he very much appreciates. When he pulls up ten minutes later, Jisung takes two trips to load everything into the truck, then hops into the passenger seat.

“Seriously, Jisung?” Minho complains, feigning irritation.

“Thank you! I owe you one!” Jisung says happily, leaning over to give Minho a quick peck on the cheek and immediately snapping back to his spot. He sees Minho blink a few times in shock, and he himself does the same. _Why had he done that?_ It’s not that strange of an action for him, he would do it to Felix or Hyunjin in a heartbeat, but with Minho it feels weird. Maybe because he’s known him less than a week, maybe because of what they’d done last night, but it somehow feels like a little more than a casual joke between friends when Minho’s involved. 

Neither of them say anything, but Minho turns the radio up and an oldie that Jisung has always loved comes on, so he starts belting at the top of his lungs to break the tension. It works, and Minho joins in too, and by the time they’re at their building Jisung’s throat feels scratchy and parched. Minho grabs the sander and carries it up while Jisung balances the tarps and stains and they lay everything out so Jisung can get to work. 

Minho makes good on his promise not to lift a finger, instead opening up a box of Jisung’s books (with permission) and sorting through them. It’s for the best, because Jisung can barely hear himself think over the sound of the sander, but when he looks over Minho is laying back on the couch with the book held over his head, already almost twenty pages in and looking completely enthralled. When the sanding is done, he steps back to admire his work and grabs a glass of water. The apartment is quiet now aside from the sound of Minho turning the page every once in a while until Minho speaks up.

“Do you work early tomorrow or are you on your new schedule?” he asks.

“I don’t have to be in until one from now on. We close at seven, and it takes about an hour to close up, so that’ll be my new schedule,” Jisung explains, wiping the bookcase down with a wet cloth to get the dust off.

“So no more free mid afternoon coffee and pastries for me?” Minho asks, and even though he’s out of vision Jisung can tell he’s pouting.

“Not unless you stop by the cafe. But there’s lots of seating, you’re welcome to do work there if you want,” Jisung says. 

“Hmm…” Minho hums, sounding deep in thought. “That doesn’t sound so bad. So are you scared for tomorrow?”

“I’m not scared, I know how to run the shop. Plus tomorrow I’m just training with Johnny on the managerial stuff. Tuesday is the big day,” he explains. He stands back and looks at his work, admiring what he’s gotten done, then grabs his handheld vacuum and cleans up everything around the tarp. “By the way, are you cooking dinner again?”

“I suppose I will need to feed myself later, yes,” Minho says, staring up at the ceiling. Jisung stares at him as intensely as he can, willing him to turn and see how hard he can glare. “Oh, you can come too,” he says with a cheeky grin when he finally looks at Jisung.

They don’t talk about the kisses; not the one the night before, and not the one in the car, and Jisung is surprisingly happy with it. Their relationship doesn’t feel that different, and he’s really happy with their friendship where it is. It’s like Minho has filled this gap in his life he hadn’t even known was there, and he’s just kind of in a state of bliss, letting himself go wherever the wind takes him. 

* * *

The next day is stressful, more so than he ever thought it could be. He hasn’t worked a closing shift in maybe a year and a half, even as a barista, and by the end of the day he has a journal full of notes that Johnny has supplied him with. How to close the systems at night, how to drop the cash, proper equipment storage, the works. Renjun and Donghyuck seemed to handle everything fine on their own, so what Seungmin said about them being competent proves to be true, but whether they’re just holding back because the store manager is there remains to be seen. Jisung walks home jittery from too much caffeine, a dull headache accompanying him. When he knocks on Minho’s door, he lays his forehead on his shoulder, and Minho walks him over to the couch. Jisung lays down and knocks out within five minutes, but Minho shakes him awake shortly after and holds a bowl of soup under his nose.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and Jisung shakes his head no, but accepts the soup with a thanks. “Alright, well I think you should eat and go get some sleep. Move to your couch if the music starts up. Your new sleep schedule can wait a little bit, you’re clearly exhausted.”

“Thank you, Minho,” Jisung says, chugging down the rest of his soup. “I should start giving you some grocery money. You’ve fed me for the past three nights,” he says, feeling a little guilty.

“We’ll talk about it later, ok? Get some rest,” Minho says. Jisung nods and leaves, giving Minho a little wave goodbye. He does as he’s told, cleaning his face off and settling into his bed for a few hours. When the music starts, he shuffles out to the living room and plops down on the couch, enjoying the soft corduroy against his face. Eventually he wants to shift his schedule so he just falls asleep when his neighbor does, but it’s not in the cards for tonight. Tonight he just needs rest. 

Jisung wakes up bright and early at seven again, though he spends the next hour trying to fall back asleep with very little luck. He looks around his apartment, trying to figure out what to do, and decides he has enough time to lay a coat of stain on his bookshelf. It takes about an hour, and by the time he’s done Jisung can tell he reeks of sweat and chemicals, so he heads to take a shower and get ready. He throws together a quick lunch and heads out the door, making it to work about ten minutes early. 

The day is hard. He tries to find common ground with Renjun and Donghyuck, but they’re pretty caught up in each other, so he decides to leave them alone unless anything goes wrong. He’s never been all that good at approaching new people his age, and has even less experience when doing it from a position of power, so passive leadership becomes his method of coping. They’re definitely mischievous, and Jisung can tell they’re mispronouncing everyone’s names wrong on purpose even when it’s simple, but the customers kind of seem to love it. That, or they’re all regulars and they’re used to it. The end of the day is where things go downhill, because it takes him thirty minutes to close the registers when it should take ten, and he gets lost when dropping his cash in the safe and has to call Seungmin for help. He knows it’ll get easier, but he leaves feeling wiped, and this time when he gets home he goes straight to his unit and digs through his bag for his pre-rolls, craving a little relief.

He changes into lounge clothes, not dumb enough to get his work stuff smelling like weed, and heads over to his window, removing the screen again. He lights up and takes a hit, thoroughly enjoying the coughing sensation this time; at least it wakes him up. When he’s about to take his second hit, he hears a knocking on his wall and puts the joint out, reaching for his phone. Before he can even look at it, the knocking comes again, this time from his door, and Jisung opens it just enough to let Minho inside. He looks almost as wiped as Jisung, if not more. 

“Any chance you’ll share?” Minho asks, and Jisung nods without a word, leading Minho to the window and passing him the joint, lighting up for him. Minho inhales deeply, closing his eyes and sucking, and Jisung looks at his friend. Exhausted though he may be, he looks ethereal in the window with the sunset washing over him, cheeks hollowing out a little as he exhales and passes the joint back to Jisung. He takes his own hit and passes it back over, and Minho starts again. Jisung watches him inhale and hold the smoke for a few seconds, but then he puts a hand on Jisung’s jaw and taps on his bottom lip twice. _Does he want to shotgun?_

Jisung leans in closer and opens his mouth a little, and Minho meets him halfway, letting their lips touch a bit as he exhales into Jisung's mouth. Jisung sucks, trying to keep in as much smoke as possible as he inhales, not moving away. When he exhales, Minho connects their lips again, this time in a soft kiss, and Jisung responds immediately. He took his first hit long enough ago that everything feels a little skewed, and the feeling of their lips pressing up against each other would make him laugh if he wasn’t so desperate for more. To his surprise Minho moves him backwards a little, away from the window and towards a blank wall, which he pushes Jisung up against, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other on the wall right next to Jisung’s head. He’s completely caged in, and he’s completely fine with it, maybe more fine than he’s ever been with anything. Any worries he’d had before about keeping things safe and not crossing any boundaries are momentarily disregarded as Minho licks into his mouth. It tastes like smoke, but it feels like heaven, and he pushes Minho back in one big moment of strength so they can move to the couch, because his legs feel like jello and he’s sick of standing up. He pushes Minho down and climbs on his lap, straddling him and reconnecting the kiss, this time using his own tongue first. He can’t say how long they go for, but it must be a while, because when he finally pulls away his lips feel numb.

“Hi,” Jisung says, still perched in Minho’s lap, realizing they’d never exchanged greetings. “How do you feel?”

“I feel a hell of a lot better now than I did before I came over,” Minho says, laughing as he speaks. His eyes are a little bloodshot, and his lips are red to match, and Jisung feels pretty satisfied knowing he played a part in both of those things. He runs his hand through Minho’s messy brown hair, slicking it back and out of his face.

“You look better. Rough day?” Jisung asks, climbing out of his lap and sinking into the couch.

“Yeah. Students are already emailing me with questions about my classes. We’ve been out of school for like two weeks. I don’t have any answers for them!” Minho says, sounding more amused than stressed. Jisung has determined he’s definitely the type to be giggly when high. “What about you?”

“Nothing all that major happened, just a little learning curve. And I think my closing baristas might be demon spawn. You know that emoji with the twin girls dancing in the leotards with devil horns? That’s Renjun and Donghyuck,” Jisung says, pretty satisfied with his explanation. Minho snorts a little and Jisung turns to face him. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Minho says, laughing again when Jisung scowls. He pulls out his phone and brings it up.

“These! These girls are my closing staff!” Jisung exclaims, watching as Minho squints and nods. 

“Then who am I?” Minho asks. Jisung looks for a while and points at one.

“You’re the cash eyes and tongue, cuz you buy me food and drive me around,” Jisung says, only for Minho to punch him in the shoulder. 

“Ow! Fine, hang on,” he says, looking for a better alternative. He settles on the little chef, the one without the mustache, and Minho nods appreciatively. “What about me?” Minho takes the phone and scrolls a little bit.

“Sometimes you’re this one,” Minho says, pointing to the princess emoji. He sure does know the way to Jisung’s heart. “But sometimes, we’re this one,” he continues, pointing to the little symbol of two guys kissing. He puts down the phone and rests his hand on Jisung’s jaw again, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Somehow it feels a lot more intimate when he mentions it out loud, and that’s a little frightening, but not enough to deter Jisung from returning the gesture. 

“That’s a really good answer,” Jisung says when they finally pull away. “By the way, did you make dinner?” 

“No, I was too stressed,” Minho says, leaning his head back against the sofa. “Wanna get Taco Bell?”

“Yes.”

* * *

Their next three weeks go really smoothly. Jisung is finally able to adjust his sleep schedule to line up with work, and he wakes up every morning feeling refreshed and happy. Minho takes to staying up late with him, although he usually turns in around one in the morning instead of three. They have dinner together most nights, except for the two times Jisung meets Hyunjin and Felix out, and even then he brings Minho leftovers. Minho goes into the shop and gets work done a few times, and Jisung sneaks him free coffee when nobody is looking. Their friendship is absolutely thriving, and Jisung is really happy.

And sometimes they make out. 

It’s not every day, and it’s not something they talk about. It happens in the moment. One minute they’ll be watching some romance drama on TV, and Jisung will whine and say he’s lonely, and suddenly he’ll have a lap full of Minho and lips on his own. Sometimes Minho will be cooking and hold out a spoon for Jisung to test it, and Jisung will take the spoon and ask for more, licking into Minho’s mouth to get more of the flavor until the timer goes off. Two more times they have shitty days and end up standing at Jisung’s window, burning their way through Jisung’s pre-rolls and getting lost in the feeling of the smoke and each other. One time it’s completely unprompted, Jisung knocking on Minho’s door for after work and being yanked inside and shoved up against the door as soon as is closed, with Minho’s hands tangled in his hair and Jisung’s arms wrapped as tightly as possible around Minho’s waist. That’s the time that scares Jisung the most, because it feels like true, primal desire, and not like friends using each other for stress relief. But even then, they know their limits. Nothing below the belt, clothes stay on, tongue is ok but hickeys aren’t; they follow the rules.

Until one night they don’t.

Jisung had had a _really_ bad day at work. In his three weeks on the evening shift, things had been going a lot better; after stepping in on the floor during a particularly busy afternoon, he’d finally earned the respect of his team, and they were starting to become more friendly. Renjun had seen Jisung sneaking free coffee to Minho once, and now he always teases and asks how the ‘hot boyfriend’ is doing. For some reason, Jisung can’t find it in himself to correct him, so he usually just says he’s doing well. But when Johnny denied a day off they’d both requested in hopes of seeing a music festival, they were pissed, and instead of taking it out on Johnny or trying to get their afternoons covered, they both no-showed for the shift. Jisung’s shift. And while Felix, angel that he is, offered to stay for another few hours, he had a family commitment and had to leave three hours before closing, which meant Jisung was alone. He’d sent Minho a few panicked texts when he found out what was happening, and Minho had packed up his work and relocated to the shop; although he couldn’t help with the work, he at least provided moral support. It was a wednesday afternoon, not particularly busy, but the thought of being the only employee in the building was a little bit nerve wracking to Jisung. But every time he looked at Minho, he was met with a smile and a tiny thumbs up, which gave him the strength to keep going.

Come closing time, Minho is starting to pack up, and Jisung asks him to stop.

“Between you and me, do you mind staying? You don’t have to do anything, obviously, I just think it would be creepy being all alone in here,” Jisung requests, and Minho nods.

“I have no issue with that. And if there’s anything I can do, I want to,” he responds.

“Legally, you are not allowed to do anything, or I could get in trouble. You’re a liability,” Jisung says with a laugh. 

“Aww, come on. I’m not a liability,” he says, frowning as Jisung starts shutting down the machines.

“Fine. You can wipe the tables and mop,” Jisung says, pausing what he’s doing to set Minho up with a bucket and rag. He grins like a little kid, making his way across the cafe and cleaning the tables with unnecessary precision. _Cute._ “Don’t break anything.”

It takes Jisung an extra thirty minutes to close up, and by the time him and Minho get home it’s almost nine at night. They step into Minho’s apartment and slip their shoes off, and without a moment of hesitation Jisung is pushing Minho back towards the couch and climbing on his lap, leaning down for a greedy kiss. 

“Thank you,” Jisung says breathily in between rough kisses, “thank you so much.” Minho pulls away slightly, holding Jisung’s head in place to keep him from going too far.

“For what?” he asks, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s jaw. Something they hadn’t done before.

“For being there. I couldn’t have held myself together without you,” Jisung says, leaning back in to reconnect their lips. Minho responds enthusiastically, hands on Jisung’s hips and tongue in his mouth. 

“Of course. I’m here for you,” Minho says, pressing more kisses to Jisung’s jaw and another to his neck. “Anything for you, princess,” he whispers against the side of Jisung’s neck, and holy shit, Jisung can feel that _in his soul._

“You can do whatever you want. I’m off the next three days. Holy shit, Minho, that was so fucking hot,” he groans, trying to stop himself from grinding down directly onto Minho as he feels himself start to harden. Minho doesn’t need to be told twice, sucking a hickey where Jisung’s jaw meets his neck, where it can at least somewhat be hidden. He leaves more wet kisses down the lower parts of Jisung’s neck, but doesn’t suck hard enough to bruise, ever considerate for the future. Instead he cranes his neck back up to give Jisung another kiss, and Jisung can feel himself losing control. He grinds down, hard, trying to get some kind of friction onto the growing bulge in his pants. He feels Minho’s hands on his hips, directing him into a steady rhythm, moving him further down until they’re touching and Jisung can feel that Minho’s in the same situation. Minho swallows every little cry he lets out, and his hand starts moving forward until he pulls away briefly. 

“Jisung, can I-” Minho starts to ask, and Jisung just nods, moving Minho’s hand to where he needs it and placing his own onto Minho. This is so beyond what he ever expected when he started that dumb staring contest, and it’s a little scary just how aware Jisung is that these feelings are not _friendly,_ that he wants _more,_ but it feels so good that there’s no way he’s going to stop. They continue their grinding, their kissing, their rubbing, and within minutes Jisung can feel himself about to boil over.

“Minho,” Jisung whispers, grinding down particularly hard. “I’m gonna-“ Minho cuts him off with his lips, responding by grinding up faster and moving his hand quicker. They’re still very much clothed, both of them uncomfortably straining against their pants, and when Jisung finishes it’s sticky and warm, and he thanks the universe he doesn’t have to wear these pants tomorrow. He’s given up on trying to kiss Minho, who seems to be in the same situation, and they both sit there panting into each other’s mouths for a minute until Minho cradles Jisung’s head in his hand and rolls him so he’s laying with his back on the couch. 

“I’m gonna change really quickly. I’ll grab you something too, ok?” he asks gently. Jisung doesn’t say anything, too caught up in his thoughts, and Minho scurries out of the room. _What the hell was that?_

Jisung lets his head roll to the side, spotting the little cat figure he’d bought. Every time he comes over, he moves it somewhere new, and every time he comes back it’s sitting in the middle of the coffee table. Their own little tradition. Jisung is interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of a toilet flushing, and suddenly he realizes he can’t be here when Minho comes back. He grabs the cat and puts it on the floor facing the front door, then runs into the hallway without so much as stopping to take his shoes. When he gets inside, he showers and cleans himself; from the workday, from whatever the hell he’d just done with his supposed friend, from the thoughts swirling inside his head. He grabs a leftover beer from his fridge and lays on his couch, turning on a mindless anime to try and distract himself. His phone has buzzed a few times, all texts from Minho, but he ignores it. 

It’s noon when Jisung finally makes it out of bed the next day, slinking into the kitchen to make some quesadillas for lunch (the one thing Minho had successfully taught him how to cook). He’s still too embarrassed to answer his phone, instead walking over to his beautiful bookcase and pulling out a paperback he’s been meaning to read for a while. He settles into the couch and begins the story, letting his mind get pulled into a faraway land where he didn’t completely blur the boundaries between friends and lovers the night before. 

Sometime around three, Jisung hears knocks on his wall. He hesitates for a moment, then walks over and knocks back twice, if only for the sake of letting Minho know he’s ok even if he’s not answering. He doesn’t receive a response, and his phone stops buzzing, so he must get the message. Jisung lets it go and goes back to his book.

But then around six, Minho makes himself impossible to ignore. Jisung hears his door handle rattle and glances up from his book, trying to figure out what’s happening. It clicks a few times, and then opens to reveal Minho standing in his front entrance with a giant casserole dish in one hand and Jisung’s spare key in the other.

“I brought lasagna,” he says, closing the door and placing the dish down on Jisung’s kitchen table. Jisung puts the book over his face, trying to figure out how to respond to this situation. 

“Thanks,” he says, voice muffled by the book. He hears Minho walk over, and the book disappears into the air, leaving only Minho’s face for Jisung to stare up at.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Minho asks, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“Not really,” Jisung admits, biting on his lower lip in nervousness.

“Ok. Well, do you want lasagna?” Minho asks, squatting down so they’re at eye level. Jisung turns to face him.

“Yeah, I want lasagna,” he responds. Minho smiles and leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Jisung’s forehead and putting the book back on his face. Jisung dog-ears it and puts it on his coffee table, standing up and stretching his limbs.

“Are you still in pajamas? So lazy,” Minho says, laughing. Jisung laughs along, excusing himself to his room to change. He looks in the mirror closely for the first time that day, inspecting his neck and pressing on the hickey. It aches a little, but the pain fades as soon as he lets go, so it’s definitely real. He’d definitely made out with his friend so furiously that he was left with battle wounds. They’d definitely grinded against each other to the point of releasing in their pants like teenagers. He’d definitely had a visceral reaction to being called princess that he didn’t dare to analyze. And now that friend is sitting at his kitchen table with homemade lasagna like everything is normal. Maybe it is. It doesn’t really matter at this exact moment, so Jisung just peels his clothes off and replaces them with joggers and a flannel, running a comb through his hair and throwing a beanie over it to cover the grease.

When he comes back out, Minho applauds, and Jisung takes a bow. 

“There’s my stoner boy!” Minho says, reaching out and rubbing the flannel between two fingers. “Ooh, this one's soft.”

“The softest. But I can’t wear it out cuz it’s missing a button in the middle,” Jisung says, pulling at the shirt to show a gap right above his rib cage. Minho takes the opportunity to poke at the bare skin there, making Jisung laugh. 

“If you find a matching button I’m sure we can figure out how to fix it,” Minho says, walking over to Jisung’s kitchen and grabbing some plates and silverware to set the table.

“Let me help a little, it’s my apartment, right?” Jisung says, pulling out some cups and opening the fridge. “What do you want to drink?”

“Coke?” Minho requests, so Jisung pours two glasses and sets them on the table. Minho starts to slice the lasagna and serve it, so Jisung sits and lets himself be and be a little pampered. When they finally both dig in, the flavors absolutely explode in Jisung’s mouth, and he has to slump in his chair and lean his head back to fully enjoy.

“Oh my god, this is the best thing you’ve ever made. I’d pay restaurant prices for this, how is this possible?” Jisung asks, diving in for another bite. 

“I got fresh herbs and everything from the store earlier. Everything is from scratch except the pasta. Is it really that good?” Minho asks.

“I’m pretty sure this is the perfect food,” Jisung replies. “Tell me how to make this.”

Minho looks surprised, but indulges Jisung’s request, talking through all the details about the sauce, how to get the most flavor out, what cheeses to use, and what to look for when baking it. Jisung has a million questions, and he answers all of them, though they frequently get pulled into tangents. It’s so easy to get lost in conversation like this with Minho. Why was he so worried?

“Minho?” Jisung asks, changing the subject away from food for a moment. 

“Yes?” He replies.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. And running out,” Jisung says, hanging his head in guilt. Minho takes a small bite of his food, chewing for a while and looking deep in thought.

“I have to admit, that didn’t feel very good,” he finally says.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Jisung says quietly. Minho doesn’t say anything for a while, instead focusing on his food, and Jisung pipes up again. “We’re… friends, right?” Minho looks up immediately at that, eyes wide.

“Yeah, of course,” he says reassuringly. And then a few moments later, he adds on softly, “at least, I think so.” Jisung nods, taking another bite of his food. 

“Ok. Good.”


	2. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry Jeongin. You really just... aren't in this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer to finish than I was expecting! There are some parts in the middle I'm still so-so on, but I think it needs to be done. I'm still getting the hang of these fics that stretch over a long period of time, they're much harder for me than the little one or two days scenarios that I typically go for! I hope it still reads well and isn't too dry.
> 
> I really appreciate everyone's support in the past month I've been writing. I know I've been putting things out every 3-5 days, but my mental health is a little poor right now, so while I definitely want to keep writing fics, it may not be as frequent as that for now. The hotel I work at is still shut down, and the US has some very shitty unemployment policies so... I think the job hunt is on.

Their talk makes Jisung feel a little better. They’re friends. With benefits. At least, it makes him feel better enough that he’s willing to cross that line with Minho again. And again. And again. They still have their boundaries, but they’re progressively getting wider, and every time Jisung feels Minho’s arms around his waist and the teasing kisses on his neck he’s tempted to push things further. It’s taking all his willpower to enforce the clothes on rule when he can so easily feel Minho beneath him every time things get heated. 

But it’s not all physical; they really are great friends. Jisung gives Minho at least one book a week to read, and he always comes back with a thoughtful analysis even if it wasn’t to his taste. He’s figured out exactly how to calm Minho down when he’s got too much going on but doesn’t want to say anything, sitting in the cafe with twitchy eyes trying to get all his work done. In those times, Jisung brings over a special tea blend with a side of honey. Renjun calls it the boyfriend blend, and Jisung rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest. Minho’s key has a permanent home on Jisung’s own keychain at this point so he doesn’t have to wait outside when he goes over for dinner after work. They’re close.

Which is why Jisung is so shocked when two weeks before school starts, after a long shift at work, he opens the door to see a stranger sitting on Minho’s couch.

“Jisung?” 

Jisung looks around the apartment from the couch to the kitchen, relieved when he sees Minho standing over the stove. He walks inside and kicks his shoes off, sending a polite smile to the man on the couch and taking note of the multitude of suitcases in the corner of the room. The man nods back at him, not really smiling back, just looking curiously at the situation. 

“Jisung, this is Changbin. He’s one of my friends in my major,” Minho explains. Oh. Jisung hadn’t even really considered that Minho had other people he could be hanging out with, selfish as that may be. He’d just never mentioned anyone. Jisung had Hyunjin and Felix, Seungmin when they were at work, and Minho. Minho had… Jisung? And Changbin? Who else?

“Hi, I’m Jisung,” he replies, smiling at the man again. 

“Yeah, I figured with the way you walked in like that. Minho said you might, but I didn’t think he was serious,” Changbin says, picking up a beer off the coffee table and laughing. Minho had been talking about him?

“Oh, well I hope I’m not interrupting,” Jisung says. “Minho, you should have just texted me you had company. I can eat at home for a night if you two are catching up.”

“No, stay. Changbin is going to stay here for the week. His landlord gave him the wrong schedule so he came to town early expecting an apartment only to be told it’s still occupied,” Minho explains. A week? Jisung hasn’t had to share Minho for a single day since they met almost three months ago, now he has to share for a week?

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out as soon as possible. At good as this couch has been to me in the past, Min, I’d rather sleep in my bed,” Changbin chuckles.

“Where’s all your stuff?” Jisung asks, sitting down to join Changbin on the couch. 

“Luckily I had it in storage for the summer. I’d be pretty pissed if I had no place to live and a truck full of furniture,” Changbin responds. Jisung hears the stove click off and looks over to Minho, who’s portioning out three plates of rice, chicken, and broccoli. He’s got them on a health food kick to make up for all the pasta they ate over the summer, and while Jisung’s body is thriving, he misses the carbs.

“Hey, Minho, can I borrow a sweatshirt?” Jisung calls out, already stepping towards his room. 

“Yeah,” he responds. “Actually, let me come with you, everything’s in a pile and it’s not all clean,” Minho calls out, jogging to catch up with Jisung. “We’ll be right back, don’t starve,” he says to Changbin as he walks past his friend. When they get into Minho’s room he closes the door behind them.

“Sorry to spring this on you, we didn’t know it was happening until today,” he says, digging through a pile of clothes and pulling out a black sweatshirt, tossing it to Jisung.

“You have nothing to apologize for, it’s your apartment,” Jisung says with a smile, pulling the hoodie over his head. It smells like Minho. “I was just surprised.”

“I know, but our routine is getting all switched up,” Minho says guiltily. Jisung grabs him by the shoulders, causing Minho to pick his head up.

“Minho, it’s fine. It’s just a week. And he seems nice. Maybe I can make a new friend too,” Jisung says, trying to get Minho to smile. It works, and he nods quickly.

“You look cute in this,” Minho says, fluffing the shoulders of the hoodie up. He leans down quickly, giving Jisung a kiss as if to prove his statement true. Jisung smiles into it, wrapping his arms around Minho and continuing it for a little bit longer before pulling away. 

“Thank you. You have company, he’s going to get suspicious,” Jisung says, trying to walk away. Minho grabs him by the hips and kisses him twice more, a quick peck to his lips and one to his cheek. It's cute, adorable even. It makes his heart flutter. It’s not the kind thing friends do, but Jisung can’t bring himself to care. They walk out the door side by side and Jisung helps carry the plates to the table, grabbing a beer for himself and another for Changbin. The conversation flows easily with Minho as a mediator between the two, and Jisung decides he genuinely likes Changbin. Maybe this week will be alright.

“Wow, it’s nice having people other than Jisung over,” Minho says when he takes his last bite, leaning back in his chair. Jisung scowls and kicks him under the table, making Changbin laugh.

“Should you really be starting fights with me? I could rob you,” Jisung remarks, picking up all their plates and walking them over to the sink. 

“You don’t have to do that, this is my apartment,” Minho says, following behind Jisung with the serving dish and utensils. “And I could rob you too. You just don’t have anything worth taking,”

“I have that bookcase,” Jisung says, elbowing him a little as they wash the dishes in tandem. Changbin has gone quiet, but Jisung can feel his eyes boring into them from the kitchen table. 

“Jisung, why don’t you bring your friends over tomorrow? I’m gonna get bored if it’s just Minho,” Changbin says, dodging the dishrag Minho throws at him.

“Oh, I mean it’s not my place to bring people over here...” Jisung says hesitantly.

“Then bring them to your place,” Changbin suggests.

“Actually, I don’t mind either way. I’ve met Renjun and Donghyuck but I don’t really know Hyunjin or Felix at all. I’d like to, I’m sure they’ll be around once school starts,” Minho says. 

For some reason this whole situation makes Jisung uneasy. Felix and Hyunjin had seen his place when he first moved in, but not since he decorated, and not since he’d made a friend in Minho. His life at home and his life outside have somehow ended up separate, and introducing the people he cares most deeply about to each other sounds a little nerve wracking. Minho is right though, he’s sure Felix and Hyunjin will be around to study and hang out once their schedules are realigned. Might as well break the ice now.

“Sure. Let’s do it at my place, Hyunjin and Felix haven’t seen it since I furnished it. They both work tomorrow, but maybe after? At like three?”

“Sounds fun! It’s almost the end of summer, let’s grab some drinks and get shitfaced!” Minho says with a grin, turning his head to look at Jisung. He does the same and smiles up at Minho, amused by how excited he is. Jisung had never realized Minho might want to meet his friends; might want to be even more ingrained in his life. 

“I’m still here, you know,” Changbin calls out, laughing when they both snap around to look at him. “You guys are gross.”

“We’re not doing anything,” Jisung says defensively, drying off the last dish and walking to the table to grab his things. “I’m gonna head out for the day. It was nice to meet you Changbin. I’ll see you guys tomorrow? Do you want to come to the store with me before everyone comes over?”

“I’m in,” Changbin says, giving Jisung a genuine smile as he heads out.

“Wait, I’ll walk you back,” Minho says, chasing after Jisung.

“He lives ten feet away, is he gonna get lost?” Changbin asks, but Minho just gives him the finger and closes the door. The hallway is quiet and stuffy, and Jisung would much rather be in his air conditioned apartment, but he waits for Minho to catch up.

“He’s right, you know. I don’t need an escort,” Jisung says as they walk side by side.

“I know you don’t, but here I am anyway,” Minho says, following Jisung inside when he unlocks his apartment. As soon as Jisung drops his things he’s being spun around and there are hands under his thighs as the ground disappears beneath his feet. He shrieks, clutching his legs around Minho’s torso and laughing as he’s carried across the room. Minho isn’t really looking where he’s going, preoccupied with laying sloppy kisses on Jisung’s neck as they wobble around.

“Minho! Minho, the coffee table, watch out!” he yells, laughing as Minho maneuvers around the obstacle and tosses him onto the couch, jumping on top of him shortly after. “You’re so needy today,” Jisung giggles when Minho leans in for a kiss, but returns it nonetheless. It turns steamy quickly, and Jisung relishes the feeling of Minho’s fingers tracing up his torso, under the hoodie but above his shirt. He feels Minho moving it further and further up until he pulls his face away from Jisung’s, yanks the hoodie over his head, and stands up. 

“I just needed this back,” he says, walking towards the door.  
  
  


“Excuse me, I was using that,” Jisung yells, still laying on the couch and trying to smooth his hair down.

“Sorry princess, I can’t lose this one,” Minho responds with a little smirk.

“Well you could have just asked,” Jisung says.

“That wouldn’t have been nearly as fun, would it have?” Minho asks, spinning the hoodie around and grinning. 

“No, it wouldn’t have,” Jisung admits.

“Text your friends. I’ll pick you up at noon?” Minho asks, opening the door.

“See you at noon,” Jisung confirms. When Minho is gone, he flops back onto the couch, placing a hand over his racing chest and taking deep breaths. That’s the second time in one night that Minho has stolen him away for the sole purpose of getting kisses. Kisses that didn’t feel like nothing, that left him breathless and flustered and floaty. They had started this arrangement under the premise of a little bit of sexual relief, a way to make sure they didn’t get out of practice or to cope with stress when they were lonely. That’s not what it feels like anymore. When Jisung calms himself down, he reaches for his phone to text his friends.

_Jisung (8:04 pm): Do you two want to come over tomorrow after your shift? Minho and his friend want to have people over. I’ll have drinks ;)_

_Felix (8:05 pm): You’re finally going to let us meet Minho??_

_Jisung (9:05 pm): I was never stopping you_

_Hyunjin (9:07 pm): lies_

_Felix (9:08 pm): ^^_

_Jisung (9:09 pm): ANYWAY_

_Hyunjin (9:10 pm): Ill be there_

_Felix (9:12 pm): same_

Jisung puts his phone down and looks around the apartment. It’s kind of a disaster, clothes strewn about and books laying in random places, dishes laying dirty in the sink. If he’s going to have a bunch of people over, he probably needs to clean, so Jisung peels himself off his couch and gets to work putting everything back in its place. He spends three hours making sure his place is spotless, finishing just a little after midnight and sending himself to bed with a vow to never let his place get that dirty again.

Come noon Jisung is buzzing with excitement. Nervous as he may have been, he’s actually excited for his circles to finally meet and find some kind of harmony. When he meets Minho and Changbin in the hallway his excitement only increases, spurred on by the fact that Minho has actually dressed up for the occasion and the amused smile on Changbin’s face. 

“I call shotgun,” Changbin shouts, running to Minho’s pickup as soon as they get outside. Minho and Jisung walk at a more leisurely pace, strolling around to the drivers side.

“Princess,” Minho says, play bowing as he opens the back door for Jisung. He curtsies in return and climbs up into the seat, waggling his fingers when Minho closes the door. 

“You’re just as dumb as him,” Changbin says fondly, looking back at Jisung before Minho can get into his seat. Jisung opens his mouth but says nothing, not wanting to get Minho involved in the conversation. Are they really that transparent? As they pull away, Jisung pulls out his phone and starts listing out the things they need, getting input from Changbin and Minho.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of food. How many stomachs do your friends have?” Minho asks, taking a left into the parking lot. Jisung doesn’t give him a real answer, instead making a scoffing sound in return and pouting at him through the rearview mirror.

“Good thing you didn’t sell the pickup last year, huh?” Changbin chimes in, patting the old truck on the glove compartment as if it’s been with him for decades. Jisung leans forward, resting his chin on the shoulder of Minho’s seat.

“Why _do_ you have a pickup, Minho? It doesn’t really match you,” Jisung says. Minho reaches around and pushes Jisung back to his own seat. 

“Hand-me-down from my family. It’s ugly but it’s convenient so I just haven’t tried to replace it,” he says, pulling into the grocery store lot.

“Your family sounds nice,” Jisung says, unbuckling and hopping out of the car once they’re parked. “Maybe they’ll adopt me.”

“I’m sure you’ll meet them someday, we can talk about it then,” Minho says with a laugh. “Although I’m not sure how they’ll go about adopting a twenty-one year old.”

“We’ll have to figure something out, because I’m still gunning for that TV,” Jisung responds.

“What, you don’t want to watch TV with me anymore? Mines not good enough?” Minho asks, playfully bumping into Jisung’s side. He moves to the line of shopping carts and grabs one, wheeling it into the store as Jisung follows close behind. 

“Your TV is great, but my couch is better,” Jisung says. They’re walking down the snack aisle, choosing between spicy chips or cool ranch ones, when it dawns on him that he hasn't heard from Changbin for a while. Jisung turns around to try to get him involved in the conversation only to find him missing. “Where’d he go?”

“Oh shit, did we lose Binnie?” Minho asks, taking a look around. A moment later Changbin walks up, a cart full of alcohol in tow.

“Oh my god, Changbin, thank goodness,” Minho cries, holding his hand over his heart. “I was about to have them make a missing child announcement over the radio, I was worried you got lost in those big tall shelves.” Changbin ignores him, turning to face Jisung.

“Can I sleep on your couch instead? He’s a dick,” he asks.

“I don’t think so, my couch is really big and I’m worried you’d fall through the cushions,” Jisung says, putting a comforting hand on Changbin’s shoulder. 

“Why did I even come with you two? This is why I drink,” Changbin says, giving the case of beer he’d picked up a loving pat on the side. He’d gone pretty wild with his drink selections, grabbing not only the beer but also bottles of vodka, tequila, and whiskey, and a variety of mixers on the side.

“You know it’s just five people, right?” Minho asks, gesturing at the cart. 

“It’s rude not to have a variety of options. Don’t worry, I’ll make use of the extra at a later date. I’m not picky,” Changbin assures him. Jisung shrugs and starts wheeling his cart to the snack aisle, the other two following behind. Minho also grabs a few normal groceries and ingredients for baked nachos, then they make their way home.

“Holy shit, you cleaned,” Minho says upon walking into Jisung’s apartment. His face is one of genuine shock, and Jisung would be annoyed if he didn’t find it so cute. And chiseled. And handsome. God, he’s in deep.

“Yes, I cleaned. I do know how to clean, I’m an excellent cleaner. One of my many talents,” Jisung says, placing his groceries on the table. 

“Hey now, I don’t need the attitude. You know perfectly well what it looked like before,” Minho says as he follows Jisung further inside. Changbin comes in last, shoving the beer and mixers into the fridge and the vodka into the freezer.

“I knew where everything was,” Jisung says defensively, but Minho just raises his brow questioningly and moves on. 

“Ok, I think I’m going to make these nachos in my place since there’s zero room for me to cut anything here. Changbin, what do you want to do?” Minho asks.

“I’ll stay and help Jisung set up,” he says, taking a look around the place. Jisung smiles gratefully and Minho takes his leave. Changbin starts setting the whiskey and tequila up on Jisung’s minimal counter space as Jisung digs through his cupboard for bowls he can pour the snacks into.

“So tell me the truth, are you guys dating?” Changbin asks after a few minutes of silence. Jisung flinches, nearly knocking over the bowl he’s been reaching for, but corrects himself and pulls it down, placing it on the kitchen table.

“Is that what Minho told you?” Jisung asks warily.

“He won’t tell me anything. He just says you’re close,” Changbin sighs.

“We are close. He’s one of the people I’m closest to in my life right now, but we aren’t dating,” Jisung says as he starts arranging some snacks. They’d gone for the cool ranch chips, and once the bag is empty he sucks the seasoning off each of his fingers.

“You’re fooling around though.”

“Is that a question?” Jisung asks, suddenly feeling very defensive of his relationship with Minho. It’s not an angry feeling, just a protective one. It’s just between him and Minho.

“It’s not a question. You keep sneaking off together and I heard you through yelling through the walls last night, it’s pretty obvious,” Changbin says, pulling out the solo cups they’d bought and making them into a cute little arrangement before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m against it or anything, despite my complaining I think you really suit each other. He seems really happy around you,” he continues. “I just don’t get why you don’t just make it official. From what he said, you eat dinner together every night? And you have your own set of keys. You already behave like a couple, why not just be one?” Changbin asks. When Jisung looks at him, he seems genuine, and despite the annoyance Jisung is grateful Minho has a friend like him. 

“I don’t know. I guess because more than the fooling around, he’s my friend first?” Jisung says, still trying to unpack everything Changbin’s just said.

“You don’t have feelings for him?” Changbin asks seriously. Now _that_ rubs Jisung the wrong way, having someone he’s only known for a day try to make something so simple out of something he considers so complex.

“I-“ Jisung starts, but gets cut off by the sound of knocking on his door. He runs to open it, greeted by a disheveled Minho with a tray full of unbaked nachos and hair falling into his eyes. Jisung steps back to let him in, putting a hand on his elbow and following to make sure he can get to the stove alright and rest the tray down, turning the oven to preheat. He runs his hands under the sink for a moment to wet his fingers, then walks over to Minho and runs them through his bangs, pushing them to either side so Minho can see.

“Thank you, Jisung. How’s everything going in here?” He asks, looking around. He seems to sense the slight tension in the room, face turning into a slight pout. 

“It’s good, don’t worry,” Changbin assures. “We’re almost done with the snacks. Those look great.” Minho smiles and looks at Jisung as if for confirmation, who nods and gives him a quick squeeze from behind, taking a quick second to dig his nose into Minho’s shoulder and inhale his scent. It relaxes him immediately, and Jisung briefly wonders when cherry blossom and almond started reminding him of home. _Of course he has feelings for Minho._ That much is pretty obvious at this point, because despite the fact that he calls Felix and Minho both his friends, they trigger very different reactions in him. Felix doesn’t make his heart skip beats and his face flush. He doesn’t have to actively try not to touch Felix at every moment. With Minho, he does.

They have about an hour left before Hyunjin and Felix come over, so each of them cracks open a beer and gets to adding the final touches on their setup. The nachos are baking and are due to be done right before everyone comes over. Minho brings over a portable speaker and lets Changbin pick them out a playlist, and Jisung checks and re-checks that he’s got enough ice being made. When they run out of things to do the three of them slump onto the couch and wait, Jisung trying to keep his guests entertained with a loud vocalization of ‘99 bottles of beer on the wall’.

When Jisung gets a text from Felix that they’re at the building, he runs downstairs to let them in. When he walks to the door and opens it to let his friends in, he’s expecting Felix and Hyunjin. He’s not expecting a third person to be pacing back and forth behind them, clearly out of his comfort zone.

“Seungmin!” Jisung calls out in surprise, catching his coworker off guard. Hyunjin and Felix have already walked inside, leaving them standing alone in front of the door.

“Hey, Jisung. I hope it’s ok that I’m here, Hyunjin insisted I join in. I know we haven’t really been close like that before,” Seungmin says, scratching behind his head nervously. Jisung reaches out to grab his elbow and pull him inside.

“Of course it’s ok, the more the merrier. As long as you don’t mind me getting shitfaced and losing the customer service voice for the night,” Jisung says with a laugh.

“Not one bit. I might have to do the same, today was a shitshow,” Seungmin agrees as they head to the elevator to catch up with their friends. “Speaking of which, I got my class schedule today. We may have to talk about that whole switching back idea.”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Tonight we enjoy the end of summer!” Jisung says as he steps into the elevator. He wraps his arms around Felix and Hyunjin, fake sobbing as they meet for a hug. “My babies, I miss you. Is he treating you right?” Felix giggles, then adds his own fake sob.

“He’s torturing us, Jisung! He makes us clean so much!” He cries. Seungmin laughs at the dramatics, giving Felix a playful swat on the shoulder. 

“Hmm? Do you guys want to move to the night shift and hang out with Jisung? I’m sure Renjun and Donghyuck would be happy to have their evenings free,” Seungmin threatens. 

“No! Anything but that!” Hyunjin shouts, clinging to Seungmin’s shoulders. _They seem to have gotten close._

The elevator dings for them to exit at the third floor, and Jisung directs everyone to unit 303. Putting on his best announcer voice, he starts his show:

“Ladies and gentlemen, please brace yourselves,” he starts, only for Felix to cut him off.

“We’ve both been here before, Sungie,” he mumbles.

“Shut up, it wasn’t furnished then. Seungmin hasn’t,” Jisung says in a normal speaking voice. He clears his throat and starts again, putting the act back on. “Like I said, please brace yourselves for the most glorious apartment-” Jisung is cut off again, this time by Minho opening the door and staring at them.

“Jisung? What’s going on?” he asks. Jisung shakes his head and sighs.

“I was trying to give them a grand reveal until you opened the damn door,” Jisung says with a scowl.

“Sorry, I heard your voices but you weren’t coming in. I thought you got locked out,” Minho says. “Do you want me to close the door again?”

“Yes, please,” Jisung says softly. Minho shuts it, and Jisung starts for a third time. “Please prepare yourselves for the most luxurious and beautiful apartment in all the lands!” Jisung finally finishes, swinging the door open with grandeur. Minho and Changbin are standing on either side of the entrance and clapping, which seems to amuse Seungmin the most out of everybody.

“Good job, princess!” Minho cheers. Jisung sees Felix and Hyunjin elbow each other from his peripheral, but lets it pass. 

“This is Minho, and this is Changbin,” Jisung says, gesturing at the men respectively. 

“Oh, Minho, I think we’ve met,” Seungmin says, and Minho looks confused for a moment until an embarrassed look crosses his face.

“Really? When?” Jisung asks, curious. 

“He came by the cafe and was asking for some tea I’ve never heard of. I didn’t know what to do, I just gave him chamomile,” Seungmin says.

“Jisung knows what it is. So does Renjun,” Minho mutters.

“Oh. It’s ginger lemon and peach. I think Renjun put it in a little tin under the register,” Jisung explains. “I didn’t know you went to the cafe when I wasn’t there.”

“You were sleeping and I didn’t want to bother you, but I really needed that tea. It was after I pulled that all-nighter a few weeks ago,” Minho explains.

“Wait, the boyfriend tea? That tin?” Felix asks. Minho’s eyes widen a little when he looks at Jisung, who scratches his nose to try and play off his embarrassment. 

“Renjun labelled it,” he says weakly. “Anyway, enough about tea, we have a fridge full of beer and a table full of liquor. Help yourselves!” 

The group disperses to grab their own drinks, Jisung downing the last few sips of his beer and swapping it for a tequila lemonade. As soon as he finishes making it and takes his first sip, Jisung feels a pair of arms slip around his shoulders and a whisper at his ears, making him nearly spit his drink out in shock.

“What is going on with you and that man?” the voice whispers.

“Hyunjin? Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” Jisung whines. 

“Answer the question,” he says, pointing a finger gun to Jisung’s temple.

“He’s my friend!” Jisung squeaks. 

“Really, princess?” Hyunjin purrs in his ear with a little giggle, releasing Jisung from his grip. 

“Really,” Jising persists, turning to face Hyunjin. “I’ll let you know if that changes, I promise.”

To Jisung’s relief, everybody seems to get along better than he could have hoped for. Seungmin loosens up with the help of a little vodka, and outside of work he’s surprisingly… adorable. Jisung feels bad he’d been so wary of him at first, because although he takes his work very seriously they’re really not that different, two college students born a couple weeks apart trying to scrape by. They’d dragged a few of Jisung’s dining chairs from the table and placed them across from the couch so everyone can sit, and while Jisung is curled up next to Felix on the couch with Changbin on the other side, Hyunjin had chosen the seat in between Minho and Seungmin, who he keeps staring at with sparkly eyes. They’ve taken to playing ‘Ride the Bus,’ with a deck of cards Changbin had bought at the store, as he swears it’s the most efficient way to get everyone drunk and happy. So far it’s proving to be accurate. 

While the group waits for each person to take their turn, they chatter between themselves, though no matter who initially starts the conversation Jisung inevitably seems to end up speaking to Minho. Eventually, Minho ends up getting off his dining chair and sitting on the floor beside the couch, settling between Jisung’s legs and letting Jisung run his fingers through his hair as the group keeps playing. 

“Minho, why are you on the floor?” Seungmin asks at one point, letting a loud laugh out when he notices.

“This rug is soft, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Minho responds, patting it lovingly for show. Seungmin shrugs and gets off his chair, sitting cross legged on the rug on the other side of the coffee table.

“Oh shit, Jisung, where is this from?” he asks, a very serious look in his eye. Jisung gives him the information, but he’s pretty sure it goes in one ear and out the other.

“Hyunjinnie, come sit,” Seungmin demands, tapping the spot next to him. Hyunjin giggles and follows suit. 

With everyone distracted, Changbin stands up and leans over the back of the couch towards Jisung.

“Can we finish our chat from earlier?” he whispers, gesturing towards the door. Jisung nods and swings his legs over Minho, slipping on some shoes and grabbing his keys. Minho looks over at them but doesn’t say anything, instead moving to the couch and starting a conversation with Felix.

“What’s up?” Jisung asks, following Changbin down the hallway and into the elevator. 

“I just want to know what’s going on,” Changbin says, walking out the front door. Maybe because he’s always being teased, but he moves quickly for someone so small, and Jisung has to scramble to keep up. “Is there somewhere I can smoke?”

“Ah, yeah. Let’s go to the back of the building,” Jisung says, leading the way. When they find a curb to sit on, Changbin pulls a bowl out of his hoodie pocket and a little tin. It looks handblown, clear with stripes of green and blue running through, and when he sees it Jisung gets a little embarrassed at the sad little pre-rolls he keeps. 

“Do you mind?” he asks, packing the bowl up. Jisung shakes his head and gives him a tight lipped smile. He’s a little nervous being interrogated like this, especially with everyone waiting for him inside, but he doesn’t really see a way out. “Do you want some, then?” 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll have some,” Jisung responds. _Maybe it’ll take the edge off the questioning_. Changbin nods and takes his hit, then passes it over to Jisung. 

“I’m not trying to freak you out, by the way. But he’s one of my best friends, and he seems so happy. I don’t really know you, but you seem happy when you’re around him too. Do you really not have feelings for each other?” Changbin asks after Jisung passes the bowl back. 

“I can’t speak for him,” Jisung says, leaning back on his hands.

“But you?” Changbin asks.

“Yeah, of course I have feelings for him,” Jisung admits. It’s the first time he’s really acknowledged it out loud, even though he’s seen all the signs for a while now. Changbin messes around with the bowl a little and takes another hit, passing it back to Jisung. 

“Then what’s stopping you? Why not just tell him that? Don’t you want a boyfriend?” Changbin asks. Jisung takes his time with this hit, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke until he can’t possibly hold it anymore so he can buy some time in avoiding the question. Eventually, he has to exhale and explain himself.

“I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend. And I’ve never seen two people date and not come out the other end thinking the other is a piece of shit” Jisung explains with a grimace. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m a piece of shit, especially Minho. So I just don’t date.”

Changbin starts to say something, but is interrupted by a loud shout from the building. When they turn to look at what’s going on, Minho has Jisung’s window slid open and has his hands cupped up to the screen. Jisung giggles, feeling a little cross faded from the weed and the alcohol, amused by the way Minho’s face is scrunched up. 

“THANKS FOR THE FUCKING INVITE!” Minho yells. Jisung blows him a kiss and Changbin sends a big wave, to which he scowls at and walks away from the window. Changbin gets up and dusts off his hands, then offers one to Jisung. He accepts it and stands, a little alarmed when Changbin doesn’t let go right away.

“I’m biased, but if there’s one person you should break that rule for, it’s him,” he says. Jisung doesn’t respond, following behind Changbin as they head inside. He’s probably right, if there was one person worth taking a risk for, Minho would be his one. But Minho hasn’t expressed any problems with how they are right now, and Jisung is enjoying it too, so he’s not in much of a rush. The elevator ride is where Jisung can tell he’s officially and without a doubt high. Whatever Changbin smokes has landed him less on the relaxed side of high and more on the giggly one, so when the doors open and he’s met with an image he’d never in his life expected to see, Jisung can’t help but burst out laughing.

Because pressed against his apartment door is his lovely co-manager, Kim Seungmin, and the one pressing him against it is his dear friend Hwang Hyunjin. They’re into it, like, tongues down each other’s throats, hands in each other’s hair, can’t even hear Jisung laughing his ass off into it. After at least a minute, Changbin clears his throat and walks up, tapping Hyunjin on the shoulder and making him jump. This only makes Jisung laugh harder, dropping to the floor and clutching his stomach as Seungmin pushes Hyunjin away and straightens out his clothes. He starts walking towards Jisung as Changbin pushes Hyunjin inside and squats down to get on eye level with him.

“Are you high right now?” Seungmin asks, leaning a little closer to sniff him and scrunching up his nose. 

“Are you making out with your employee in my hallway?” Jisung challenges, trying not to laugh when Seungmin recoils. 

“I swear, it’s not an ongoing thing. We haven’t done that since we first met,” Seungmin says with a panicked look in his eyes, clearly overreacting in his drunken state. Jisung instantly feels like shit, not having intended this kind of reaction. 

“Hey, hey, I’m just kidding. Why don’t we just pretend the last five minutes never happened, ok?” Jisung says, getting up on his knees and giving Seungmin a hug. He nods, returning the gesture, until Minho pops his head out the door and calls them inside. 

“What’s going on?” Minho asks quietly while they’re standing in the doorway, noticing how upset Seungmin is. Jisung looks up at him, noting the faint droop of his eyes signaling he’s a little tipsy, and decides it’s not the time for a full explanation. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung says, hopping up to give him a little kiss of his own before they fully step inside. He didn’t check to see if anyone was looking, and he doesn’t think they were, but if he’s wrong, well, they weren’t fooling anyone regardless and Minho’s smile is worth the risk. 

“You taste like weed,” Minho says, sticking his tongue out.

“Never stopped you before,” Jisung says with a laugh, giving him another one.

The couch is empty now, as Seungmin and Hyunjin have returned to their spot on the floor. Hyunjin has a comforting arm wrapped around Seugmin’s shoulder, which Felix seems unphased by. Jisung doesn’t know what the hell has been going on during those morning shifts, but he’s got to remember to figure it out as soon as they’re all sober. For now, he pulls Minho down next to him on the couch and looks at Changbin and Felix on the other ends of the coffee table, signaling to start a new game. 

They play waterfall next, slipping cards under a beer tab and trying in their drunken state to follow the complex rules. Felix pulls an eight and chooses Changbin as his drinking partner, which is a terrible idea because he’s well into cross faded territory and is practically in his own world, meaning they’re both drinking _a lot_. Hyunjin pulls a queen and gets a mischievous look in his eye, scanning the room for the target of his one allotted question.

“Minho,” he asks, pointing dramatically at his victim. “How long have you two been a thing?” Hyunjin questions, gesturing between him and Jisung. Minho looks at Jisung, a little shocked, and Jisung wishes he were more surprised by the question but it’s honestly just like his best friend to find a workaround when he can’t get an answer straight from Jisung.

“Are we a thing?” Minho asks quietly, ignoring the excited chatter around them. 

“I don’t know,” Jisung responds. “I wouldn’t say we _aren’t_ a thing.” Minho smiles at that, looking more excited and hopeful than Jisung has ever seen him, and he knows the alcohol is making his emotions bigger but his heart swells when he sees the kind of effect he has on Minho. 

“Maybe June?” Minho ponders, stroking his chin like it will help find the answer.

“June? That’s two months ago! You’ve been sleeping together for two months and didn’t tell me, Sungie?” Felix yells, and for the first time Jisung notices how drunk his friend has gotten. Changbin stands without a word and pours a cup of water, sitting next to Felix and making him drink it.

“We aren’t… we’re not sleeping together, per say,” Jisung mumbles, hiding his face. He can tell he’s completely flushed, and Minho laughs but pulls him closer and lets him bury his face in his neck. “This is humiliating,” he says, voice muffled by Minho’s skin, who just presses a kiss to the side of his head and laughs. He hears Hyunjin make a gagging noise but ignores it in favor of keeping his new position. Minho’s neck might be his new favorite place in the world. 

But then there’s a loud knock on the door, and it takes Jisung a few seconds but he realizes this is his apartment, and he needs to be the one to answer, so he stands up reluctantly and makes his way over. There’s another set of knocks, and Jisung flings the door open, unsure what to expect. What he finds a man standing in the hall, half asleep, pale with bleach blond hair, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Can I help you?” Jisung asks, trying to sound as sober as possible.

“Can you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep and you and your friends are loud as shit,” the man says. Jisung looks at his phone briefly to check the time. It’s only 5:30.

“I’m sorry, what unit are you from?” Jisung asks. The man gestures to his right.

“I’m Chan. From 304. Right next to you. I can hear everything,” he complains, shifting his weight onto one leg. Jisung feels his blood boil. This man, who stays awake until 3 in the morning, who keeps _Jisung_ awake until 3 in the morning, who _never_ answers his door, is standing in front of Jisung at 5:30 in the evening and asking him to be quiet. 

“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming over here and asking ME to be quiet, you know that?” Jisung says, slurring a little as his voice raises. The man blinks a few times, clearly taken aback. “You know your bedroom is right next to mine right? We share a wall. And you blast your fucking music until three a.m. every single night. I had to change my shift at work because of you! I SLEPT ON THE FLOOR BECAUSE OF YOU!” Jisung yells, losing control of his emotions. He feels a pair of arms slip around him from the back, and Minho’s scent wraps around him, calming him a bit.

“Who are you screaming at, princess? You sound belligerent,” Minho giggles, pressing little kisses to Jisung’s neck. 

“This fucking guy. This is the guy from 304,” Jisung says, shoving his finger a few inches from Chan’s face. Minho looks up and Jisung looks towards him, noticing the exact moment his eyes shift into alertness and his face into one of recognition. 

“No way.”

“Minho?”

The two speak at the same time, and then Minho is slamming the door shut in Chan’s face. Jisung laughs maniacally at the action, but Minho looks petrified.

“You know that guy?” Jisung asks, taking Minho’s hands in his own. 

“Yeah. My ex. I never thought I’d have to see him again, and now he’s living two doors down?” Minho says, laughing dryly. He’s clearly freaking out, and Jisung has never seen him like this. He doesn’t know what to do. Jisung leads him to the kitchen and pours a glass of water, handing it to Minho, who sips at it appreciatively, then walks into the main area to look at everyone.

“Does anyone need water?” he asks, watching as Hyunjin and Seungmin lift their arms in unison. He grabs two glasses for them and then crouches next to Changbin.

“Do you know a Chan? Minho’s ex?” Jisung asks quietly. Changbin turns to him, looking a bit surprised, but nods. “Apparently he lives next door to me. He just came to complain about the noise. Minho seems… off,” Jisung says, looking into the kitchen to see Minho leaning against the counter and staring into his water. 

“I’ll go talk to him,” Changbin says, standing up and heading to the kitchen. He slings an arm around Minho, who leans his head to the side and rests it atop Changbin’s. Jisung doesn’t know what’s going on, but he knows he’s not in much of a state to help and Changbin is more suited to the task this time. As much as he wants to help, he’s not what Minho needs in the moment, so Jisung takes a seat next to Felix and pulls him into his lap.

“Lixie, how are you? You’re awfully quiet,” Jisung says, squeezing him around the waist. Felix wiggles around a little, making Jisung laugh as he settles into his hold. 

“I feel enlightened. I’ve learned so much!” he says, and even from behind Jisung can see his cheeks bending into a goofy smile. 

“Oh yeah? What’s new?” Jisung asks.

“I learned Hyunjin and Seungmin are doing their thing again. I met Minho and Changbin. They’re both so nice, by the way. I learned how to play ride the bus. I learned you smoke weed,” Felix says, sniffing the air a few times. “You still kind of smell, by the way,” he says.

“I’ll make sure to wash the clothes well,” Jisung says, sniffing his shoulder. Felix is right. 

“I learned the almighty Han Jisung dating ban is lifted,” Felix says, a little more quietly. 

“We aren’t exactly dating, Felix,” Jisung tried to explain. 

“I saw you kiss him. He’s still closer than I ever got,” Felix sing-songs, pressing more of his weight into Jisung. Jisung presses his forehead to Felix’s back, sighing.

“That was two years ago, Lixie,” he says quietly.

“I know, I know. It’s not like I was waiting or anything, I’m just surprised,” Felix says, pulling away from Jisung. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” he continues, standing up and stumbling away. 

“He’s ok,” Hyunjin pipes in, holding an arm out to Jisung. Seungmin is asleep or very close to asleep on one shoulder, so Jisung scoots towards Hyunjin and steals the other one for himself, resting his head. 

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Hyunjin,” Jisung whispers, and he feels Hyunjin’s shoulders shake a bit in amusement. 

“All in due time,” he whispers back. A couple seconds later Jisung hears a camera click and looks up to see Minho standing in front of them with his phone in the air. 

“You guys looked cute! Sorry!” he says with a grin, spinning his phone around to show off the picture. It really is sweet, Hyunjin with two boys resting sleepily on either shoulder, and Jisung doesn’t blame him for snapping a shot. Felix walks out of the bathroom shortly after, looking refreshed and cheerful again.

“Did I miss something?” he asks. Jisung motions for him to sit down and pulls him close.

“Photo time!” he says cheerfully, giving his biggest smile. Felix and Hyunjin follow suit, but Seungmin is still passed out on Hyunjin’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t agree to this,” Minho says, taking a couple shots regardless. He squats down next to them to show off the final results, promising to send them to everyone. 

“You two get together now,” Felix says, grabbing the phone from Minho’s hand and pointing to him and Jisung. They look at each other and Minho shrugs, sitting down and pulling Jisung in between his legs, arms wrapped around him. They smile for the first shot, and Felix asks for another pose. Jisung puts his hands up to make peace signs, but Minho has a different idea, squeezing Jisung tighter and pressing a messy smooch to his cheek as the shutter goes off. When Felix hands the phone back, he takes a look, and a stream of heat rushes to his cheeks. They look really cute. Like a couple.

“Do you guys work tomorrow?” Jisung asks, changing the subject and turning to Felix. 

“Yeah, all three of us work in the morning. It might be best if we head out soon. We need to get Seungmin home and I don’t know where he lives,” Felix responds.

“I do,” Hyunjin says, earning the stares of everyone in the room. “Stop, it’s not like that,” he says weakly.

“How are you guys getting home?” Changbin asks.

“We walked here, we’ll just walk back. It’s not that late,” Hyunjin says. He shakes Seungmin awake gently, who blinks a few times and looks around the room, then hides his face in embarrassment.

“Oh god, did I really pass out during a party? That’s so fucking lame,” he whines, standing up and slapping his face awake. 

“Good morning, Seungmin,” Jisung coos, standing up and squeezing his cheeks a little.

“Not a word of this at work,” Seungmin says, but he pats Jisungs hands and gives a little smile anyway. 

“Of course not. Never happened,” Jisung says with a salute. He hugs everyone goodbye at the door and turns to look at his apartment. “This looks like it can be cleaned tomorrow,” he announces, flopping down on the couch and turning the TV on. 

“Agreed. Hey Minho, I’m gonna go back to your place, are you coming or staying here?” Changbin asks. Minho looks at Changbin, then at Jisung.

“I think I’ll stay for a bit, if that’s ok?” he asks. 

“Of course,” Jisung nods, patting the spot next to him on the couch. Minho tosses the keys over to Changbin and waves, then takes a seat and throws an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. Jisung can feel himself tense a little, feel heat rising to his face and butterflies flutter in his stomach now that they’re alone after their little moment in this very spot earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just focuses on the TV even though he can feel Minho staring at him.

“So,” Minho starts, trying to get his attention. 

“So,” Jisung repeats. He’s still staring at the TV, but he leans into Minho a little.

“So how are you feeling?” Minho asks.

“Honestly, I’m still a little crossfaded. I feel tingly,” Jisung says to the TV. Minho seems to have had just about enough of that, because he grabs the remote and turns it off, pulling Jisung into his lap so he has to look at him. “Hi. How are _you_ feeling?” Jisung asks.

“I feel good. Really good,” he says, wrapping his arms around Jisungs neck. “So, a thing? Boyfriend tea? Anything you care to discuss with me?” Minho asks. Jisung smiles, leaning down to give Minho a sweet kiss. He pulls away after a few seconds, laying another on Minho’s cheek and a third on his jaw. It doesn’t feel too bad, sitting here on Minho’s lap and giving him little kisses that actually mean something. He still doesn’t want to commit to being someone’s boyfriend, but he certainly wants _more_.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what the thing is, but I feel _something. You_ make me feel something,” Jisung confesses.

“Well you make me feel a million things,” Minho says, resting a hand on Jisung’s face, stroking his cheekbone with a gentle thumb. This is what Jisung has been afraid of, because that one sentence makes him feel like he’s flying, and he’s scared of what it would feel like to fall.

“You can’t say stuff like that. I forbid it,” Jisung says sternly.

“Why not, princess?” Minho asks, and if Jisung wasn’t already blushing he certainly is now. He feels warm all over and weak in the knees and everything cliche that people have told him he’ll feel when he finally finds someone he wants to be with, and it scares the shit out of him.

“Because if you say things like that, I feel like I owe you something I don’t know how to give you,” Jisung says. It comes off a little more accusatory than he means it to, but Minho doesn’t look offended.

“Well, what are you willing to give me?” Minho asks.

“What is this, a transaction?” Jisung retorts, making Minho snicker a little.

“No, it’s not a transaction. But I like you Jisung, and I think you know that, and I think you like me too. And I like what we do,” Minho starts, only to get cut off by Jisung.

“But you need more, right?” he asks. “A label?”

“Need is a strong word,” Minho says. 

“Well, we’re not just friends anymore, are we?” Jisung asks. He knows they’re past the point of pretending that’s the extent of their relationship. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Minho responds softly. 

“But I don’t know how to be a boyfriend. I’ve never been a boyfriend. I never thought I would be, to be honest,” Jisung admits.

“Can I ask why?”

“Because, relationships end and people hate each other. I don’t want to hate anyone, and I don’t want anyone to hate me.”

“That’s not always true, you know that, right?” Minho says, running a hand through Jisung’s hair.

“My parents were married, until they got divorced, and now they hate each other. My best friends who dated in high school broke up and hated each other, to the point where I couldn’t be friends with either of them. There’s a million people on TV who break up and hate each other,” Jisung says, starting to get frustrated. Not with Minho, with the situation as a whole. “I mean, look at you and your ex. Someone you must have liked enough to be in a relationship, and then you saw him tonight and slammed a door in his face.”

“Ok, ok. I get where you’re coming from,” Minho says in a soothing voice. “You’re right, I do kind of hate him, but there’s a lot of history there. Let’s not get caught up in that.” Minho pulls Jisung down into another kiss, longer and deeper this time, as if he can push all his feelings and comfort into Jisung through skin on skin contact if it won’t work through words. When Jisung pulls away, it’s with a clear mind and a racing heart. “Let’s just be us.”

“What’s us?” Jisung asks, climbing off of Minho’s lap and laying on the couch, pulling Minho with him.

“Minho and Jisung. You and me. If you can’t be my boyfriend, just be my Jisung,” Minho says with a smile.

“Be your Jisung… What does that entail?” Jisung asks, pressing a quick kiss to Minho’s jaw and pulling away to look into his eyes.

“You still need to give me kisses,” Minho says, and Jisung nods and gives him a quick peck. “And maybe more,” he continues. Jisung doesn’t know what to say to that, so he bites his lower lip and nods for Minho to continue. “I still want to eat dinner with you, and I still want thirty bucks for groceries every week,” he says, making Jisung laugh.

“We already do all those things,” Jisung says with a smile, “don’t you want anything more?”

“If I think of something else, I’ll ask,” Minho says. “Is there anything you want?” 

“If I think of something, I’ll ask,” he mimics, giving Minho another kiss. “Actually, there is something I want now.”

“Oh really?” Minho asks.

“I want you to take me to my bedroom,” Jisung says, pressing a kiss to Minho’s neck. “I want to touch you, finally really touch you.” Another kiss. “I want you,” Jisung whispers, laying a third kiss onto Minho’s neck and redirecting his gaze towards his eyes. “I want to give that asshole next door something to complain about.”

“Oh my god, we can absolutely do that,” Minho says, scrambling to get up and pull Jisung with him. They run into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them, and climb onto the bed, standing on their knees. Minho wraps one arms around Jisung’s waist, letting the other wander as he presses kisses and little bites to his lips. Jisung groans, relishing in the feeling when Minho slips a hand under his shirt, running up and down his torso. His fingers are smooth and slender as they caress him, and it dawns on him that in the months they’ve been messing around, this is the first time he’s ever felt them like this. 

“Minho, shirt off,” Jisung says, unable to make complete sentences with his lips so occupied. Minho runs his hand down the front of Jisung’s torso again, stopping when he gets lower, then pulls away, a look of concentration on his face. “What?” Jisung asks, startled when Minho peels the shirt up and over his head stares at Jisung’s stomach and splays his hand out against it. 

“Jisung you have like… abs,” he says, running his hand up and down. “I’ve never seen you work out.” 

“I guess. All you’ve been feeding us lately is health food, I guess I’ve lost some weight since pasta month. And I do situps sometimes. When I’m waiting for the music to shut off,” he says with a giggle. “You’ve been eating the same way as I have.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have abs,” Minho says, placing a hand over his own clothed stomach. 

“Prove it,” Jisung challenges, beginning to unbutton Minho’s shirt. With every button he releases, he presses a kiss against Minho’s body. Starting with his collarbone, to his sternum, his stomach, his naval. He doesn’t have abs, but his stomach is mostly flat with just a hint of chub, and Jisung finds it adorable. When he undoes the last button, he looks up, trailing his mouth back to Minho’s. “It all looks perfect to me,” he says, reconnecting their lips. Minho pushes him down to his back shortly after, intertwining their legs and laying both arms on either side of Jisung head.

“How far do you want to go, princess?” Minho asks.

“I… it’s been a long time, I don’t know what I can take,” he admits, avoiding eye contact in favor of staring at the ceiling. There’s a little dark mark that he’s never noticed, probably water damage. He makes a note to worry about it some other time.

“Can I suck you off?” Minho asks, regaining Jisung’s attention rather quickly. He nods his head yes, clutching the back of Minho’s neck and trying to pull him into another kiss, but right when their lips touch Minho resists. “Can I eat your ass?”

“God, yes,” Jisung groans, feeling himself grow more and more excited by the second. When Minho finally closes the gap again, it’s all tongue, all desire, all lust. Jisung can’t believe he waited this long to let this happen. He lets his hands trail down Minho’s body, runs his fingers over the waistband of his pants, and for the first time lets himself go further, slipping his fingers underneath and circling them to the front, fiddling with his button, undoing his zipper. He can feel how much Minho wants this, straining against his boxers when Jisung rubs over them, heavy in his hand when he peels them down. Minho sits back to strip everything off himself, then crouches over Jisung, kissing down his abs and leaving little bites as he unbuttons his jeans and peels them down, mouthing over Jisung while he’s still got his boxers on for a while. When he grows courageous and slips them down, Jisung can’t help but moan softly as warmth envelopes him. Minho pulls off briefly to help him shimmy out of everything, leaning up for a quick kiss.

“You’re going to have to be louder than that if you’re trying to be heard,” Minho says, sliding back down and starting again.

“Fuck, Minho, _so good_ ,” Jisung moans, shoving his shame to the side and moaning louder and louder as Minho works his magic. He can feel tightness building within him, letting himself comb his fingers through Minho’s hair and grab tightly to keep himself grounded. Before he can get too carried away, Minho pulls off with a _pop._

“Flip over, princess,” he says, grabbing Jisung by the hips and guiding him to his hands and knees. Jisung crawls up as close as he can to his headboard, waiting for Minho to follow. He’s surprised when Minho slides under him, putting his head on a pillow and smiling with a dirty look in his eyes. 

“W-what are you doing?” Jisung asks.

“Sit,” Minho says.

“You’re not serious?” Jisung says, a little panicked. He’s never done this before. What if he breaks him? Minho leans up a little to grab at Jisung’s hips, pulling them up and towards his face, then lowering them down. Jisung feels hands spread him apart, then warm licks all around, until Minho’s tongue grazes over his entrance and he all but screams his name. Minho works himself in further, and it’s been so long since Jisung has felt anything even half as good as this that he worries he might start crying. Minho guides him with his hands to move his hips a little, and Jisung obeys, closing a fist around himself to push himself even closer to the edge.

“You sound so pretty, princess, but I want to hear more,” Minho says when he pulls away for a second. “I know you can be louder.”

“Then make me be louder,” Jisung whines, lowering himself back onto Minho’s face. He gets what he asked for, because a moment later Minho’s tongue is joined by the graze of a finger, and as Minho works it in slowly Jisung feels the buildup in his stomach, and soon the release as he’s pushed over the edge, screaming Minho’s name. He’s still trying to recover when he hears a pounding on his wall, and he climbs off of Minho and bursts out laughing. 

“We accomplished our goal, I think he’s mad,” Minho says with a chuckle, looking incredibly proud of himself. Jisung takes a moment to scan over him, red and angry and ready to burst, then lets his eyes trail up his body, absolutely stunning as his chest heaves, then his face, messy with little bits of drool smothered around his chin. He crawls down to the space between Minho’s legs, reaching for him and looking up with heavy eyes. Jisung is absolutely exhausted, but Minho had just brought him to the brink of ecstasy, so the least he can do is return the favor. 

“My turn,” Jisung says, starting with kitten licks and growing bolder until Minho fills every part of his mouth. It doesn’t take long until Minho is filling the room with his own noises, grunts and moans and gasps of Jisung’s name. Within minutes he’s spilling into Jisung’s mouth with a shout, and the banging on the wall begins again. Jisung crawls up to meet him on the pillows, pulling him into a deep kiss. 

“You are so fucking hot, princess,” Minho whispers as they pull away. 

“And you are a miracle worker,” Jisung replies, resting his head on Minho’s chest and intertwining their fingers, pulling and poking at them. “Are you really ok with this? With no label or anything?”

“Do I still have you?” Minho asks.

“I’m yours,” Jisung confirms, pulling Minho’s hand to his lips and kissing it.

“Then it’s fine. Although at some point I want to talk about your reasoning again, it doesn’t have to be now. Everything is perfect right now,” Minho says, smoothing a hand over Jisung’s hair.

“Then I want to hear about what happened with your ex,” Jisung says, turning to look up at him. 

“Deal. Now come up here and lay on this pillow so I can look at you”, Minho says, patting the space next to his head.

“Why? I like it here,” Jisung whines, burying his face in Minho’s pecs and pressing a little kiss to his sternum.

“Because I have about a million things I wanted to say to you but couldn’t when we were _just friends_ , so you have to start listening to them now,” Minho explains. Jisung reluctantly slides up on the bed, laying on the pillow so he’s almost nose to nose with Minho.

“Ok, like what?” Jisung asks.

“I want you to know that you make the cutest little constipated face when I ask you to help me cut vegetables,” Minho says with a smile.

“I’m sorry, is that a compliment?” Jisung asks.

“I said it was cute,” Minho defends.

“You said it was constipated.”

“ _Anyway_. I think you should know that you have the cutest little butt in the world,” Minho says, scooting closer to Jisung so he can wraps his arms around his waist and grab at his ass, tapping a little beat onto it. “You should expect for me to touch it pretty often.”

“You already slap it every time I bend over,” Jisung says, pulling even closer to Minho so they’re chest to chest.

“Even more than that,” Minho says.

“Ok. My turn. You should know that you look really, truly, extraordinarily hot in sunglasses. That day we went furniture shopping I was like: Oh damn, kinda down for this guy to bend me over in this elevator,” Jisung says. 

“Next time I put them on, I’ll never take them off,” Minho promises.

“You can’t do that either, it’s a waste if you cover your eyes. I really love your eyes,” Jisung says, looking up into them. They’re big and beautiful and Jisung swears he can see the stars in them right now. He has to look away quickly, because he can feel himself getting overcome with emotion at how perfect everything is in this moment.

“What’s wrong?” Minho asks, putting a finger under Jisung’s chin and forcing eye contact.

“Nothing. I’ve never had this, you know? Once I tell people I don’t do relationships, they don’t hang around. It’s nice to just lay in bed with someone I care about and know that they care about me too,” Jisung says.

“Get used to it,” Minho says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We can lay here as long as you want.” Jisung shifts a little, getting into the most comfortable position he can find, and shuts his eyes. And then, as if his neighbor knows it’s the perfect time to ruin a nice mood, the music starts. Minho’s eyes snap open and he scrambles to his feet, pounding on the wall. “I’m gonna kill him,” he grumbles. “TURN IT DOWN!” Jisung gets up after him, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist and pulling him back.

“Down, boy. He can’t hear you. Even if he could, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to stop after what we just pulled,” Jisung says. “Let’s just go into the living room. What time is it, anyway?” Minho pulls back, reaching for his pants to check his phone and pulling his boxers back on in the process.

“It’s nine,” Minho says, grabbing Jisung’s boxers and tossing them over. They head out into the living room, shutting the bedroom door behind them to drown out the music. Jisung walks over to what remains of the nachos, grabbing a few and munching on them despite how stale they are. “I didn’t realize how bad it was. The music, I mean.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty irritating. Hey, you don’t happen to have his number or anything, do you?” Jisung asks.

“No, I blocked it when we broke up. What are you going to do?” Minho asks.

“I’m going to do what I always do. I’ll just hang out on my couch until it stops and sleep after,” Jisung responds with a yawn. Day drinking really took the energy right out of him. 

“You can barely keep your eyes open. Why don’t you just come sleep in my bed?” Minho asks, gliding over and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I can’t do that, we still need some boundaries, baby,” Jisung says, leaning up to give him a little peck.

“But you’re tired, and I’m tired, and my room is quiet,” Minho whines.

“It’s too much. I’m still getting used to this,” Jisung says, cupping Minho’s face. “And you should really be but getting back to your houseguest, shouldn’t you? He’s only there for a few more days. I’m here for the foreseeable future.”

“Fine,” Minho says, admitting defeat. “Do you work tomorrow?”

“I do. I’ll be out at eight. We’ll do dinner as usual, ok?” Jisung asks.

“Can you come by before you go to work? Just for ten minutes?” Minho requests as he walks back to the bedroom to put the rest of his clothes on. 

“May I ask what for?” Jisung responds, walking over to Minho and helping him button his shirt back up. 

“You’ll find out. Just ten minutes,” he says. Jisung fixes Minho’s collar and wraps his arms around him, walking backwards and dragging him towards the door.

“I’ll be there. Go hang out with Changbin, he’s going to get lonely,” Jisung says. Minho puts his shoes on and steps towards the door, but just as he’s about to leave he turns around to look at Jisung. “What?”

“You called me baby,” Minho says with a goofy smile.

“Go home, big baby,” Jisung says, opening the door and pushing Minho into the hallway. When the door closes, he leans against it, sliding down and landing on the floor with his head buried in his hands.

_Holy shit._ He’s never felt like this, and even though he feels amazing, it’s a little overwhelming. Jisung certainly isn’t a virgin, but he’s only slept with two people before and they were both one night stands he never intended to see again. And Minho was better. _Way better._ And they didn’t even go all the way. But what’s even better than the sex, the thing he didn’t even know he was missing, is that Minho stayed. Or, he wanted to, until Jisung pushed him out. Everything he thought he knew is getting flipped upside down by Lee Minho, and it's a lot, but maybe for once he’s willing to hold on tight and enjoy the ride. 

* * *

Jisung wakes feeling… lighter. He’s hungover, sure, and when he looks at the time it’s only seven in the morning, but he’s happy. He jumps into the shower humming a cheerful tune, he cleans his apartment and only finds himself mildly grossed out by the spilled beer and chip crumbs everywhere, he takes the time to pick out an especially nice outfit for work (though he keeps his sweats on for the time being). And by then it’s only ten. Jisung hasn’t woken up this early in months, he doesn’t know what to do with an empty morning, so he turns to the person who usually fills his free time.

_Jisung (10:07 am): Hey_

_Jisung (10:08 am): Are u up?_

_Minho (10:10 am): I’m still in bed_

_Minho (10:11 am): what’s up?_

_Jisung (10:13 am): Nothing I just woke up early… bored_

_Minho (10:15 am): come cuddle_

Jisung smiles, pleased with the response. He puts on his slippers and heads over to Minho’s, unlocking the door quietly in case Changbin is still sleeping, which he is. Jisung smiles at the little cat figure on the coffee table as he tiptoes to Minho’s room, opening and closing the door quietly before running and jumping into Minho’s bed. Minho turns to him, clearly still half asleep, eyes squinty and hair mussed. 

“Morning, baby,” Jisung sings, smiling at the sight. He sees Minho blush and turn away from him, pulling a pillow over his head, so Jisung latches to his back and wraps his limbs around him.

“Why are you so cheerful,” Minho groans, removing the pillow and tossing it to the bottom of the bed. “You smell good,” he mumbles after, grabbing onto Jisung’s hands.

“Sorry, I forgot about the hangover,” Jisung whispers. “I just woke up feeling good. I woke up missing you.”

“You’re the one who pushed me out,” Minho says with a laugh.

“I fell asleep on the couch right when you left. I stand by that choice,” Jisung says, pressing a kiss to the back of Minho’s neck. “I see you weren’t lying when you said you sleep naked,” he notes, looking down under the covers. He smacks Minho on the butt a few times, too easy a target to ignore.

“Princess,” Minho says, rolling over to face Jisung. “No offense, but please shut up.” Jisung laughs again, and Minho pushes his head down under the covers, trapping him against his chest. He must have showered before bed, because he smells like his typical cherry blossom almond scent and not the beer and liquor scent Jisung had awoken with. It’s cozy, so Jisung doesn’t try to escape, just flings a leg over Minho’s hip, snuggles in closer, and shuts his eyes. They don’t usually spend mornings together, so he’d forgotten about the post wake-up grumpiness and feels a little bad for bothering Minho, especially with a hangover. Pressed up against his chest, he can hear his breathing even out, and when he sticks his head out of the covers he finds Minho has fallen back asleep.

Jisung takes the opportunity to inspect him; eyelashes so long they nearly graze his cheekbones, lips relaxed and plump and perfect, nose sculpted and beautiful with a cute little mole on the side. It’s no wonder this is the man who’s making him question his entire view on relationships. Not his boyfriend, but his Minho. Jisung thinks back to how upset he’d been last night and can’t help but feel a little heated that anyone made him as upset as Chan did, even if he doesn’t know the story. He wraps himself tighter around Minho, not enough to awaken him, but hopefully enough to give him comfort in his dreams. 

A long while later, there’s a knock on the door, and when it creaks open Changbin is standing on the other side with wet hair and a pair of sweats on. 

“Jisung? When did you get here?” Changbin asks, walking over to sit on the bed. Jisung puts a finger to his lips, pointing at Minho sleeping in his arms. “Oh, he’s fine, he needs to wake up. It’s almost noon,” Changbin says, grabbing the pillow from the end of the bed and lightly hitting Minho with it. His eyes snap open, and he glares at his friend. “See, he wasn’t even asleep.”

“What? When did you wake up?” Jisung asks. 

“I dont know… thirty minutes ago?” Minho responds with a guilty grin.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“It was comfy. You smell good. I was happy until that evil man came in here,” Minho says.

“You two look like you worked things out,” Changbin says with a smile. “I’m making eggs, Jisung, do you want some?”

“Yes please. Wait, did you say it’s almost noon? Shit, I should go change,” Jisung says, scrambling out from under the covers. “I’ll be right back,” he says, giving Minho a quick kiss on the cheek before running back home to change and grabbing his stuff for the day. When he gets back, Changbin is serving the eggs, and Minho has gotten out of bed and dressed, now working on a side of bacon for everyone. 

“Thank you, baby,” Jisung says, giving Minho a little kiss on the lips when he walks around and places a few pieces on his plate. Changbin audibly gags at the pet name and the action, but Jisung can see him smiling out of the corner of his eye. 

“Did you sleep here?” Changbin asks, never having gotten his answer earlier. 

“Oh, no, I came around ten. I was just bored in my place,” Jisung says, taking a bite of his eggs. “These are really good.”

“Better than my eggs?” Minho asks.

“You’ve never made me eggs,” Jisung responds, taking another bite. 

“I will sometime,” Minho responds, shoveling some of the breakfast into his own mouth. “These are good though, Binnie.”

“Thanks,” Changbin responds. They settle into a comfortable quiet as everyone scarfs down their food, until Jisung looks at his phone and realizes it’s already 12:30.

“Hey, I gotta go, I want to get to work a few minutes early,” he says, clearing off his plate and putting it in the sink. “Thank you for the food, I’ll be back for dinner, ok?”

“Cya,” Changbin says with a wave. Minho gets up and walks with him to the door, stepping into the hallway for a little privacy. 

“Thank you for coming over this morning,” Minho says, giving him a little peck. Jisung wraps his arms around Minho’s neck and returns it, deciding he can spare another or minute or two away from the cafe. He pulls away when he hears footsteps coming down the hallway, and he and Minho both turn to see Chan walking towards the elevator. Minho doesn’t really react, just presses one last kiss to Jisung’s cheek before waving goodbye and shutting the door.

“Ah, hold it, please,” Jisung calls out as Chan starts getting in the elevator. He doesn’t look like he’s slept any since the last time they’d encountered each other. Jisung jogs to catch up, then enters the elevator and moves as far from his neighbor as possible.

“I didn’t know my music was affecting you that much,” he says quietly. Jisung turns to look at him, seeing an apologetic grimace on his face. 

“I used to work at six am and you played it until three,” Jisung says. He’s not inclined to give this guy the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, but how was I supposed to know that?” he asks.

“You could have answered your door one of the several times I knocked at the start of the summer,” Jisung responds.

“I sleep in the afternoon and wake up at nine. I would have if I’d heard it,” Chan responds. The elevators ding and they both step out, Jisung leading the way to the front door.

“I’m heading to work, can we talk about this another time?” Jisung asks.

“Which way are you going? I’m heading to campus,” Chan says. 

“The same way then. I yelled at you last night, right?” Jisung asks, a little hazy on the details from the middle of the party.

“You did. And then you had very loud, very pointed sex on the other side of the wall,” Chan says, throwing Jisung off guard. “With my ex-boyfriend.”

“Well, I won’t apologize for that, because he’s mine now. But I will apologize for the yelling,” Jisung returns. 

“He slammed the door in my face. I haven’t seen him in-” Chan begins, but Jisung turns around and cuts him off.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I don’t want to hear it from you. I want to hear from him. I’m sorry for yelling at you, and I’ve worked around your music, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to have to switch back to mornings. Which means we need to figure this out. But right now, I need to get to work,” Jisung says. He knows he still sounds rude, but Chan hasn’t apologized for anything, nor has he given Jisung any real reason to like him. 

“Ok. Well, I’m awake around eleven am, if you want to knock tomorrow. I’ll make sure to listen,” he says. Jisung turns back around and starts walking again, not waiting to see if Chan is following.

“I’ll be there,” Jisung says. They walk in silence for the next two minutes, Chan awkwardly trailing behind him until they reach the cafe. “This is me,” Jisung says. 

“Oh. Ok, see you tomorrow,” Chan says, waving awkwardly and continuing to campus. Jisung walks into the cafe, looking around to see only Felix in the front. He’s helping a customer, but gestures towards the back with his head when he spots Jisung. When he steps into the back, he hears muffled voices coming from the office and knocks lightly. Seungmin opens the door, and Jisung sees Hyunjin sitting on the file cabinet with his jaw clenched tightly. 

“Hey, you’re early,” Seungmin says, stepping aside to let Jisung enter the area. There’s really not enough room for three people, but there’s something going on, and he needs to know what. 

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you guys about… this, actually. Whatever this is,” Jisung says. 

“Apparently, nothing,” Hyunjin says. Seungmin looks at him sadly, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Ok, well that doesn’t help me. So let’s start here; when did you two meet? I keep hearing tales of before and again, but I had no idea you knew each other outside of work.”

“We met at a party towards the end of last semester,” Seungmin says matter-of-factly.

“And he took me home,” Hyunjin chimes in. Seungmins ears go red, but he doesn’t deny it.

“It was before I started here. As in, two days before,” Seungmin says.

“There I was waiting for him to call me, and then I walk in to work two days later and find out he’s my new boss. Some fucking luck,” Hyunjin says. 

“Obviously, I ended things,” Seungmin says. “Until last night, I guess.”

“So what are you doing now?” Jisung asks. They’re clearly still stuck on each other if last night is anything to go off of. 

“Nothing.”

“I’m gonna quit.”

They speak at the same time. Jisung whips to look at Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin, you’re going to quit? Seriously?” Jisung asks, feeling a little heartbroken.

“No, he isn’t, because quitting your job for a boy is stupid and reckless,” Seungmin says.

“Unless you really like that boy and you know he likes you too and your job is the only thing getting in between you “ Hyunjin says, mimicking Seungmin’s tone. There’s a loud knock at the door and Felix’s voice cuts them off. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got a line,” he says. Seungmin stands and walks quickly out of the office to help, leaving Jisung and Hyunjin. Jisung takes the now free office chair and turns to his friend.

“Are you serious about this?” Jisung asks.

“I am. It’s not like I’m giving up that much, I already have an interview to be a server, and I’d be making more than I do here. It’s not like there’s going to be any chance for promotion here anytime soon, and if there was I wouldn’t get it because of my tardiness,” Hyunjin says. His eyes are serious and his jaw is still set in determination, and Jisung is so thrown off guard by everything he doesn’t know what to do.

“Is he serious about you?” Jisung asks. “I’ve barely seen you two interact. I didn’t even know you had anything going on, so I’m seriously asking here.”

“I really like him, Sungie. And we’ve gotten close since we’ve spent more time together. I really want to try,” Hyunjin says, letting his body relax a little. Jisung lets out a sigh.

“Well I can’t stop you. But don’t put your two weeks in until you land that job,” Jisung says, using his manager voice. “I’m gonna miss having you here.”

“I’ll still be around,” Hyunjin says, finally smiling and brightening up the room. Jisung looks at the clock and sees it’s almost time for the shift change. 

“Ok, go help Felix for your last five minutes. We’ll talk more later,” Jisung says. “And send Seungmin back here if he’s not busy!” Jisung logs onto the work computer, hoping to get some work done as he waits for Seungmin’s arrival. When he steps into the office, he looks a little guilty, and Jisung gestures for him to sit.

“I can’t stop him, so you’d better be good to my friend,” Jisung says. Seungmin nods, letting his shoulders relax. “What were you saying about scheduling yesterday?”

“Oh yeah. There were a couple courses that I could only get early morning classes for. I talked to my advisor about it, but there wasn’t anything she could do. Is it possible to switch back?” Seungmin asks.

“Yeah, I haven’t selected courses yet. I’ll figure it out. Back to my 5:30 wakeups, I guess,” Jisung says, sighing dramatically. Worry crosses over Seungmin’s face again, and Jisung reaches out his hand for comfort. “I’m just kidding. I don’t mind at all.”

“What about your neighbor issue?” Seungmin asks.

“I’m supposed to talk to him tomorrow about that. I’ll get it worked out,” Jisung says, glancing around the office at a few ominous stacks of papers. “Alright, tell me about the shop today,” he says, officially starting the shift.

Nothing particularly eventful happens at work, and Jisung heads home feeling strangely fulfilled. He’s figured out his new schedule, he learned what’s going on with Hyunjin and Seungmin, he’s got a plan to work out his neighbor situation. He’s got a cute boy waiting for him at home. Things are looking up. But it’s because of his plans to talk to Chan that Jisung knows he’s going to need to disrupt the happy mood they’d created throughout the apartment this morning, because he can’t bear the thought of talking to Chan without knowing what he’d done to hurt Minho. 

When he opens the door to Minho’s apartment, he’s greeted with a hug and a couple pats on the butt. Changbin is nowhere to be seen, and Minho says he went to meet some other friends for the night. He sits at the island, playing on his phone as Minho continues cooking something that smells suspiciously fattening.

“Burgers? What happened to the health food?” Jisung asks, nearly drooling at the setup when Minho calls him over to ask about toppings. 

“I just felt like we deserved something junky,” he says, patting Jisung’s stomach. 

“Ha! You’re trying to fatten me up! You’re jealous!” he says, pulling up his shirt and flexing his abs. 

“Shut up, I’m not. If you don’t want your burger, I’ll just eat it and you can have the extra raw onion,” Minho says, pretending to steal Jisung’s food. Jisung snatches his plate back, taking Minho’s as well and carrying them both to the table. They get started on their burgers, and Jisung swears he almost cries when he bites into something other than chicken breast for dinner.

“Minho, I need to talk to you,” Jisung says when he’s halfway through his burger.

“Hmm?” Minho hums, mouth still stuffed.

“Chan walked with me to work today. I’m supposed to see him tomorrow,” Jisung says. Minho swallows his food and a frown takes over his face. 

“So you’re gonna start hanging out with my ex now?” he asks, looking serious.

“What? It’s not like that, we’re supposed to talk about the noise issues. I told him off, and he got defensive, but I had to leave before we figured anything out,” Jisung explains, waving his hands dramatically. They’ve been together for one day, he’s not trying to start any arguments.

“Ok. Well, that’s good, I guess? If you scream at him again, make sure to record it, I want to see his face,” Minho says with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s kind of about that. Can you tell me why you still have a grudge? I want to know what happened before I have to talk to him. What did he do?” Jisung asks. Minho takes another bite of his burger, looking deep in thought as he swallows.

“Honestly, it was a really long time ago. We were in high school when we dated,” Minho says. “I’m probably being too dramatic. But we were supposed to go to school here together.”

“But you both do go here,” Jisung interjects, confused at where this is going.

“He’s here now, but I was as shocked as you were to see him. We had everything planned to come here and live near each other and start university together, and then one day he came up to me and said he was moving to another continent instead,” Minho explains. “We planned for an entire year, and then all of the sudden, he completely switched things up. He said we could spend the summer together, but I just thought, what’s the point? If he’s just going to leave?”

“But you still liked him?” Jisung asks.

“Yeah, that’s what made it hurt. We never had a clash of personalities or a big blowup or anything. I still liked him, and he said he still liked me, but it wasn’t enough for him to stay. He got a scholarship opportunity in Australia that he didn’t want to turn down.”

“I’m sorry,” Jisung says, getting up to wrap his arms around Minho from behind. 

“That’s why it was so weird to see him, it was like… No offense to you, I’m ecstatic to be with you, but it was like, ‘Oh, so if we were still together, this is what he’d look like as my college boyfriend?’ He looks so different. His hair, and his body,” Minho says, clutching Jisung’s hands. “He didn’t grow, though,” he says with a laugh. 

“Maybe you should talk to him too,” Jisung suggests. “I mean, not to get back together, you’re not allowed to leave me. But it doesn’t sound like you have clashing personalities. Maybe you can make peace.”

“Maybe,” Minho says with a sigh.

“Oh, I think I have somewhat good news though!” Jisung says, trying to steer towards a happier subject. Minho looks up at him expectantly. “I think your afternoon coffee deliveries are going to be making a return! I’m going to take back over the morning shift for Seungmin.” Minho’s face lights up.

“Delicious coffee from the comfort of my home again? And cookies hand delivered by my cute little Jisung? I must be in heaven,” Minho says dramatically, jumping up from his seat to wrap Jisung in a hug and spin him around. Jisung laughs, shrieking as Minho carries him into his room and tosses him on the bed. The little cat figure is sitting on his nightstand instead of the coffee table, and Jisung reaches out to touch it. 

“Don’t move him this time, I like him there, ok?” Minho says, pressing a couple kisses to Jisung’s face.

“But I like that game. How come?” Jisung whines. 

“Because he reminds me of you, and I think that’ll be nice to wake up to,” Minho explains. Jisung turns to look at him, fondness overtaking his body.

“Ok, he can stay then,” Jisung says, admitting defeat in this particular instance. He leans into Minho for a kiss, a real one, and is met with something sweet and honest and lovely when their lips touch and their hands intertwine. It’s the kind of kiss that shows appreciation for the other person, and even though Jisung loves the kisses in the past they’ve shared full of lust and desire, this is amazing in its own right. 

They lay in Minho’s bed for a while longer, kissing and talking and laughing, until it’s one am and Jisung decides he should really go get some rest if he’s going to be civil with Chan in the morning. When he walks into his apartment, everything is quiet, even in his room. No loud music. That talk earlier must have actually done something.

Getting to finally fall asleep in his own bed at a normal time is something Jisung will never take for granted again, because he wakes up at ten feeling refreshed and ready. Jisung showers, eats, and dresses, and then heads to Chan’s place and knocks. For a minute, there’s no response, so he knocks again, louder. A moment later Chan swings the door open, looking a little frazzled, but gestures for Jisung to come inside. 

His place is an exact copy of Minho’s, although the comfy entertainment area Minho has set up in his is replaced by a giant desk and music setup in Chan’s. It’s pretty bare bones aside from that, just a few anime posters taped to the wall and one barstool pushed up to the kitchen island. Chan drags it over by the desk and offers it to Jisung, taking the rolling chair for himself.

“Ok, here’s the thing,” Chan starts. _Here come the excuses._ “I’m sorry I’ve been keeping you up. I didn’t realize it was that bad. But I’m going to need a couple hours to play music out loud, it’s part of my major. So you tell me your schedule, and we’ll figure it out.” _Or not._

“Well, starting on Monday I wake up at 5:30 and get back at around 2:15. But classes start in a week, so I’ll probably be gone even longer. I don’t even mind if you play the music while I’m home, I just need it to not be be between nine pm and five am,” Jisung says. 

“Fine. I probably need to adjust myself to start going to classes anyway. I’ll do it in the afternoon, deal?” Chan says, sticking his hand out. Jisung grabs it in a firm shake, and they’re done. That was… way easier than he expected. “Did you talk to Minho?” he asks. _Never mind._

“I did. He doesn’t hate you, you know. As a person. But you definitely hurt him a lot,” Jisung says, not wanting to give too much away. They aren’t his feelings to share.

“I’m sure I did, he told me so. Do you know how I can get in touch with him? Make amends?” Chan asks. Jisung looks at him warily. Chan’s not actually a piece of shit, now that he’s actually spoken to him. He’s pretty good looking, too.

“You’re not gonna try to like… win him back, are you?” Jisung asks, a little suspicious of his motives.

“God, no, I just want to apologize. I don’t think I’d have a shot against you anyway,” Chan says. Flattery. His one weakness.

“Probably not,” Jisung says, nodding in agreement. “He lives in this building. Unit 302. Wait, didn’t you see us in the doorway yesterday?” Jisung asks.

“Was that a different unit? This place makes me feel like I’m in prison, I wasn’t paying attention. I just move back here from Australia a few months ago, that’s why my schedule is so fucked. Everything is a blur,” Chan responds, scratching his head in confusion. 

“Well if he asks, I didn’t tell you. And don’t go in the morning, he’s not a morning person,” Jisung says. Chan laughs and nods. “But don’t go at night, because that’s my time, ok?”

“I remember. He once threw a shoe at me for waking him up and gave me a black eye,” Chan says with a laugh. Jisung can’t help but join in, because it sounds so much like something Minho would still do today. “Do you think he’d be ok if I went later today?”

“I don’t know, probably,” Jisung says, looking at his phone. “Hey, I gotta get some lunch in me before work. Thanks for talking this out.”

“Yeah. Have a good one,” Chan says with a wave as Jisung heads out the door. He can’t really believe how civil that was. He can’t really believe that he probably wouldn’t mind seeing Chan again, under better pretenses.

Jisung gets ready for work and heads over, taking over for Johnny since Seungmin has the day off. They talk about scheduling, talk about the shop. Jisung suggests the idea of hiring a new barista or two, not giving Hyunjin away but still trying to cover his own ass from ending up understaffed. When he breaks the news to Hyunjin and Renjun that he’s moving back to mornings, they actually seem kind of sad, which he wasn’t expecting. Then he overhears Donghyuck referring to Seungmin as ‘the one who makes us clean all the time’ and he understands where the sadness coming from.

When Jisung walks into Minho’s apartment that night, he’s surprised to see Minho and Chan curled up on opposite sides of the couch, nursing glasses of wine. When Minho hears the door open he looks up, a smile coming across his face when he sees Jisung.

“Welcome back, princess!” Minho sings, jumping to his feet to meet Jisung at the door with a hug and a kiss. He tastes like red wine, and there’s a little stain on his lip, which Jisung wipes off with his thumb.

“Hi baby,” Jisung giggles, pressing another kiss to Minho’s lips. “You’re tipsy.”

“Chan brought over wine and an apology. We’re catching up,” Minho explains, pulling Jisung to sit with them on the couch. Chan and him exchange polite nods, and Minho gets up to pour Jisung a glass of wine and bring him over some pizza from their favorite delivery place.

“So you guys seem civil,” Jisung says with a smile. 

“You missed the yelling match earlier, but we’re working on it,” Chan explains. Minho nods, clinging onto Jisung, and Jisung takes a sip of his wine and gets comfortable. Changbin walks through the door an hour later, taking one look at them and grabbing a beer so he can sit and join in on the conversation. He and Chan seem to know each other too, it seems like they’ve actually been in communication over the past few years, and as they fall into comfortable conversation Jisung feels Minho start to nod off against his shoulder. When Changbin notices, he taps Chan on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Should we continue this elsewhere?” Changbin whispers, and Chan nods his head.

“We can go to mine, if you want,” he offers, standing up and leading the way. When they leave, Minho perks up immediately, climbing into Jisung’s lap and pressing a kiss to his neck. 

“What- hey, you weren’t asleep?” Jisung asks, shocked by the sudden movement.

“I wasn’t asleep, I just wanted them to leave,” Minho conforms, pulling Jisung’s lips to his own. He licks into his mouth, turning the kiss hot, and Jisung begins to understand what he was going for.

“Oh, you’re just a pervert,” Jisung says, laughing as Minho starts to press kisses down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt and sucking a hickey just below his collarbone. Jisung pats him on the butt, signaling to stand up.

They move to the bedroom, Minho continuing to unbutton Jisung’s shirt along the way, peeling it off as the door slams shut behind them. Jisung sheds Minho of his shirt, his pants, lets the same be done to him as they stumble to the bed. 

“What brought this all on?” Jisung asks, laughing as Minho runs a hand over his ass and squeezes.

“I’m just really happy I have you. You sent me ex back to me to make amends. Most people wouldn’t do that, you know?” Minho mumbles, laying little kisses to Jisung’s face between words.

“You deserved an explanation,” Jisung says, running his hand up and down Minho’s spine. “I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“And I got one. And it made me realize how much better I feel with you than I ever did when I was with him. Or anyone. So I want to make you feel good,” Minho says, running his hand over the front of Jisung’s boxers and making him sigh.

“Minho, I want you today,” Jisung whispers.

“Are you sure?”

“Just go slowly, ok?” Jisung requests, removing the last of Minho’s clothes and taking care of his own right after. Minho nods, reaching into his bedside table for a bottle of lube and a condom, positioning Jisung onto his back. He works slowly as promised, almost tantalizingly so as he spreads Jisung open until the little noises he’s letting out are all pleasure and no pain.

“How do you feel, princess?” Minho asks, bending his fingers at just the right angle to make Jisung see stars.

“Good. Actually, perfect, but I want more,” Jisung says, completely relaxed as Minho does his thing.

“I can do that,” Minho says, pulling his fingers away and crawling up to give Jisung a loving kiss. He pulls away and Jisung can hear him ripping open the condom, and then moments later a pressure at his backside.

“Ready?” Minho asks, and Jisung nods, getting lost in his own world as Minho presses deeper and deeper inside. “Jisung, are you ok?” Minho asks, bending over to give him a quick kiss. He sounds really worried, and Jisung realizes he’s squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, so Minho must think he’s in pain.

“Yeah, I’m really good. It's just been a long time,” he says, moaning when Minho moves a little. He works slowly, patiently, and Jisung lets himself be fully taken over by the feeling of bliss building in his stomach and spreading through his body. When he feels good enough for more, he asks Minho to move faster, to make sure his partner gets just as much out of this as he is. They finish together, Minho’s grip tight around Jisung’s waist, Jisung’s hands wrapped around Minho’s wrists to keep him grounded, and Minho leans over to press little kisses to his forehead and push messy bangs from his eyes.

“Hey, are you ok?” Minho asks, and only then does Jisung realize that his lower lip is trembling. 

“I’m good,” he answers, voice a little scratchy from overuse. Minho pulls out slowly to toss the condom away, and Jisung can’t help but moan at the feeling, smiling in gratitude when he comes back with a wet cloth and wipes the mess from Jisung’s body.

“Why do you look like you’re going to cry?” Minho asks, laying on his side and pulling Jisung into him. 

“I’m not. I’ve just only had one night stands and now I have you and that was amazing and I get to do it as many times as I want and that’s a new feeling and I’m really, really happy,” Jisung says, mouth moving faster than his mind.

“Aww, Jisung,” Minho coos, squeezing as tight as he can. “I’m not going anywhere, ok? Trust me.”Jisung breathes in deep, inhaling Minho’s scent, and looks at the little cat figure sitting on the nightstand. It’s a little piece of him, and Minho likes it enough to want it nearby when he’s most vulnerable. That’s how Jisung feels about Minho.

“I do.”

* * *

  
  


The next few days are almost overwhelmingly blissful. Jisung rides out his last couple night shifts before pulling a full 180 on his sleep schedule, bidding a farewell to the routine of his late dinners with Minho and Changbin, tv on the couch and kisses goodnight at the door. When Changbin gets to move into his place a few days later, the routine switches from tv on the couch to heavy make out sessions, oftentimes migrating to the bedroom for more.

By the time Jisung switches back to mornings, Hyunjin has secured his new job and is training a new barista to take his place while he finishes his two weeks, which leaves Jisung and Felix to cover the majority of the frontline work. 

They haven’t really spoken in person since the party, and even though they’ve been fine over text, Jisung is still on edge. So when the cafe is void of customers, and Hyunjin and the new hire are on their break, he finally approaches the subject.

“Hey, Felix?” Jisung asks, pulling his attention from the machine he’s been cleaning.

“Yes?”

“How much do you remember from being at my place. Like… do you remember everything you said?” Jisung asks cautiously. Felix puts down everything he’s doing to face Jisung.

“I remember. I stand by what I said,” Felix says.

“In what regard?” Jisung asks. It’s just like felix to instantly know what he’s talking about. They’ve known each other long enough.

“I wasn’t waiting for you to come around to me or anything. I made that mistake when we first met, and you told me you didn’t date. And then we got closer, and I tried again, and you still rejected me. I got the memo. I was just surprised that you seemed to have opened up to Minho so much,” Felix says. 

“I didn’t expect it either. I’m sorry, Lixie,” Jisung says. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Felix asks. “You didn’t do it to hurt me. If you’re falling for him, don’t apologize. Make it count.”

“If I’m- am I falling for him?” Jisung asks. 

“Aren’t you?” Felix questions, giving Jisung a judgemental stare. Jisung thinks about it for the rest of the shift. The way Minho makes him feel, the way he’s been willing to meet in the middle to keep their connection, and the way it’s never made him feel anything but happy.

_Yeah, maybe I am._

* * *

The start of school brings about a lot of changes. Jisung was able to keep his courses to afternoons three days a week, but they’re long days. Days where he comes home feeling like a zombie, begging Minho for dinner and trying not to pass out mid conversation. Usually at the end of those days, Minho walks Jisung back to his apartment, talks to him while he gets ready for bed, and leaves after a kiss goodnight. 

The remaining four days are amazing, especially when Jisung has off of work. He’s discovering very quickly that yes, he is indeed falling for Minho. He’s probably already fallen. They go on dates, although that’s not what they call them. They go out to eat with Hyunjin and Seungmin, who have worked their relationship out miraculously quickly given the five month lead-up. They relax at home like they did during the summer, but with more going on around town, they also take the time to explore. Jisung can’t believe how quickly he falls into routine with Minho, and how happy it makes him to do so. Minho really does his best to keep Jisung comfortable, and Jisung does his best to push outside of his own comfort zone. But one day he’s thrown a curveball.

“Hey, Jisung?” Minho asks, tracing lines over Jisung’s face and neck while laying in bed. It’s a sweet moment, the kind where Jisung feels completely at peace after washing up from a little late night exercise. 

“Yeah, baby?” Jisung replies, making no move to open his eyes.

“Fall break is coming up next week,” Minho says.

“It is, yes,” Jisung confirms.

“My parents are coming to town,” Minho continues.

“That’s good. I bet you miss them,” Jisung mumbles, sleep trying to take over his body.

“Do you want to meet them?,” Minho asks. “Only if you want to, but I just thought, you said you wanted to before we started… before we got together. Do you still want to?” Jisung is wide awake now, staring right into Minho’s eyes. He looks afraid, and Jisung feels bad for making him worry so much just because of his dumb fear of commitment.

“Definitely,” Jisung says, placing a hand on Minho’s cheek. “I definitely want to meet them. Are they going to bring my TV?”

“I’ll ask,” Minho says with a laugh, leaning in for a short kiss. Jisung tries to return it, but sleep is stronger, and he can feel himself nodding off again. “Goodnight, princess.”

“I’m excited,” Jisung says with his last bit of energy, smiling as he falls asleep.

A week, as it turns out, is not a long time. It’s just seven short days. And Jisung barely remembers three of them. Minho is making dinner for the four of them, and Jisung is ripping through his wardrobe trying to find something appropriate to meet his not-boyfriend’s parents. He finds his only pair of jeans that aren’t covered in rips and a button-up he normally wears to work, deciding that even though he might not look like himself, at least he looks polished when he tucks it in. Minho’s smile is blinding when Jisung knocks on his door, pulling him inside with excitement. Minho’s parents are setting the kitchen island up for four, although it’s a tight squeeze. They don’t seem to notice the intrusion until Minho clears his throat, at which point they turn to face their son.

“Mom, dad, this is my… Jisung,” Minho says, holding Jisung in front of him with his hands on both shoulders as if he’s showing off a prized possession. Jisung smiles nervously, stepping towards Minho’s mom first and offering her a handshake.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Jisung says, trying to hold eye contact with her. Minho’s mom looks a lot like him, feline eyes and a slightly crooked smile, although she’s about the same height as Jisung. 

“Oh, he’s so cute, Minho,” she says, pinching at Jisung’s cheek lightly.

“Mom, let go of his cheek, you’re going to hurt him,” Minho says, swatting her hand away. She looks up at him defiantly, and Minho shrinks back a little. She must be more intimidating than she lets on. 

“Did it hurt?” she asks, turning back to Jisung.

“No, it didn’t hurt, thank you,” Jisung says politely. She smiles at him, then turns to Minho and smirks. Minho’s dad walks up after, a little more reserved, and holds out his hand. Jisung takes it and shakes firmly, remembering the handshake rules he’d learned at all those mandatory job fairs. Tight grip, three shakes, connect the web between your pointer finger and thumb.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir,” Jisung says, hoping the title sounded better to Minho’s dad than it had in his own ears. 

“You too, Jisung,” Mr. Lee returns. Minho has run over to the stove to check on the food, leaving Jisung alone with them. 

“Your son is a really good cook. Did he learn from you?” Jisung asks, taking a shot in the dark.

“He learned everything from me,” Mrs. Lee says proudly, smiling at her son. 

“Well, I should thank you then, he cooks for me all the time. I wouldn’t survive without him,” Jisung says. He really means it. 

“Well then what do you do?” she asks.

“I, uh…” Jisung stutters. What _does_ he do? “I bring him coffee. I manage a coffee shop when I’m not in classes, so I bring him coffee. And cookies,” he spits out. _Assistant manage._ Whatever.

“That’s a lot of work as a full time student. Good for you,” Mr. Lee says. At least he seems to have won over Minho’s dad. That makes the conversation flow much easier as they wait for the food to finish cooking. When Jisung hears the buzzer on the oven go off, his mom starts to get up, but Jisung has already walked across the room to help Minho out instinctively. He pulls the dish out of the oven, placing it on the stovetop to cool.

“You made lasagna?” Jisung asks, looking up at Minho with glossy eyes. 

“You like lasagna,” Minho says with a smile. 

“I love your lasagna. It smells good, baby,” Jisung says. Suddenly the night feels a lot better. Jisung looks back at the table, seeing Mr. and Mrs. Lee absorbed in their own conversation, and leans up to give Minho a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Jisung makes himself useful by slicing the lasagna up and plating it while Minho serves veggies to go alongside, and they both walk over with two plates in their hands. Jisung serves Mrs. Lee, figuring he should do anything possible to get on her good side, then takes a seat next to Minho. 

They get through the dinner easily, each partaking in a few glasses of wine to keep the conversation flowing. It’s mainly positive, although Minho gets quite a bit of nagging about his apartment from his mom ( _you need a real kitchen table, why did you choose a place with such ugly carpets?)_ they make it out the other end alive. When his parents leave Mrs. Lee pulls Minho in for a kiss on the cheek, then pulls Jisung in for one as well, and he nearly starts to cry. It’s been so long since he was around such a warm family. Minho brings him over to his bed, pulling them both into a laying position to recover from the whirlwind his parents left behind. Jisung grabs the little cat figure from Minho’s nightstand, laying it on his chest and patting its head. 

“They like you,” Minho says, rolling onto his side to smile at Jisung.

“I like them too. I forgot to get your mom’s number to ask her to adopt me," Jisung says, remaining on his back.

“You know I’m in love with you, right? Like, very much so, quite deeply in love with you?” Minho says, resting his head on his elbow. Jisung turns to look at him, and to his delight, he’s not overwhelmed. Or nervous, or guilty, or scared of commitment. He’s just kind of in love right back. 

“I… yeah, I think I did know that,” Jisung responds, putting the cat figure back and rolling to face Minho. “I’m definitely in love with you. But I know you knew that.”

“It’s nice to hear it out loud, though,” Minho says.

“I love you. My Minho.”

“I love you too. My Jisung.”

“Do you think we’ll stay like this?”

“I think so. If it’s me and you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I'm still working on this long-form format, so I hope nothing felt too forced. There was actually a whole ass making out in the coffee shop scene I had planned but I just couldn't find anywhere to fit it so it lives in my head forever now I guess. And the fic was originally going to be centered around them having really loud sex to piss off their neighbor, which ended up being a really minor part, but I ultimately wasn't comfortable with writing that much smut. Someone else should write it though.

**Author's Note:**

> Are they just friends? It's a mystery, isn't it.


End file.
